


We Are All Each Other's Homes

by thebigbengal



Series: We Are All Each Other's Homes (Sibling!AU) [1]
Category: Twin Peaks
Genre: (adopted siblings), Abusive Parents, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Siblings, Blood, Brother-Sister Relationships, Domestic Disputes, Dreams and Nightmares, F/M, Gen, Implied Childhood Sexual Abuse, Implied Sexual Content, Medical Trauma, Menstruation, Nightmare Fuel, Sibling Bonding, descriptions of illnesses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-20
Updated: 2020-07-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:48:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 16
Words: 40,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22592017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebigbengal/pseuds/thebigbengal
Summary: MAJOR EDITS: I went back and revised the posted chapters, as well as added a couple in order to fix some problems I had with the pacing and exposition. Chapter 1 is now chapter 2, chapters 3 and 4 have been combined, and same goes for 5 and 6. Subsequently, chapter 7 is now chapter 6. Added chapters are the new first one to establish some essential info right out of the gate, and the dream sequence at the beginning of chapter 2.AU where Cooper was adopted by the Palmers at a young age. He's been aged down to the same age Kyle MacLachlan was during the show's initial filming (30), so Cooper here is about 26. Takes place in 1985, when Laura is 14. Likewise, Sarah and Leland are slightly older, so the idea of them adopting a pre-teen when they were younger isn't all that ridiculous. Focuses on Coop's first months or so as a deputy, Laura beginning to explore the night life, and life in the Palmer house.Was initially a three-panel comic I made. Decided to write out a full-fledged story.*Archive Warnings, tags, and character tags are subject to updating as chapters are added*
Relationships: (but they're already split up by the time the story starts), Annie Blackburn/Dale Cooper, Bobby Briggs/Laura Palmer, Dale Cooper & Laura Palmer, implied donna hayward/Laura palmer
Series: We Are All Each Other's Homes (Sibling!AU) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1820566
Comments: 20
Kudos: 21





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> About the Palmers...

Twenty-five and Twenty four year old newlyweds Sarah and Leland Palmer had an already established reputation in their small town of Twin Peaks as clean cut, well polished, and utterly wholesome. Close with the influential Horne family, in person and in business, and regular contributors to their community, Leland was the finest lawyer Twin Peaks ever saw and Sarah spent her days as a loyal housewife. They went outside of their picturesque house in clothes nothing less than stylish and trendy and showed them off by trouncing the streets, hand in hand, shoulder to shoulder, pecking cheeks and putting every other aspect of their surroundings on the sideburner. They looked positively fantastical.

For such a perfect couple, surely children would be in their future plans. Much to the pleasant surprise of their peers, in the winter of 1969, the Palmer’s adopted a young boy of ten years old from as far as you could get from Twin Peaks, geographically and culturally, Philadelphia. Leland’s colleagues and Sarah’s book club acquaintances were shocked and cautiously joyful, for they couldn’t help but ask why not have their own and why adopt a child so old? “I saw him and fell in love immediately!” Said Sarah. “He needed our help and we couldn’t turn him down.”

Leland’s answer was more aloof but equally confident in the decision, “We met him and there you go.” The couple was happy and so the rest of their circle - which, with a population of just over five thousand, expanded to most social corners of the town - was too. Only until the boy put a dent in the pristine suit of armor.

His name was Dale, formerly Dale Cooper. Dark hair and dark eyes to contrast Leland’s sandy brown hair, Sarah’s strawberry blonde, and their shared cool blue eyes. The situation surrounding his birth family was, at best, ambiguous. It was debated just why that was, either because the Palmers refused to disclose that information out of sensitivity or the adoption agency genuinely had no idea what happened and why. Needless to say, it had an effect on Dale. He was inhumanly quiet unless he was talking to himself, sickly and asthmatic, and had a clear fear of birds, particularly the owls surrounding the house. The Pacific Northwest, unfortunately, had no shortage of owls. He had such an aversion to them and birds in general that Mrs. Terry Stack from five doors down joked that one killed his parents, and Sarah dumped a cup of tea in her lap.

Sarah and Leland appeared to be pulled every which way. Pollen, excessive activity, his inhaler conveniently missing, or a small stroke of bad luck sent the child convulsing and gasping for air. With the rising demand for Leland’s skills, he couldn’t be around very often, so Sarah was left to deal with the brunt of it. “We can’t leave him alone, and even if he's not alone, something still happens!” Leland would complain to his wife. 

To top it all off, he was bizarrely formal for a child his age until he chose to act out. Now, for most developing boys, running away, starting fights on the playground, breaking apart appliances and, according to rumor, lighting a fire in his own room, may just sound like reckless behavior designed to attract attention and blow off steam. And for all intents and purposes, it was. But through all of the failed therapy sessions and attempts to get Dale to socialize, Sarah and Leland caught more flack than other parents. Perhaps they’d be forgiven if Dale wasn’t so obviously deeply unhappy while Sarah continued to dote on him or, in her own opinion, if Dale was biologically theirs. 

His school attendance record was atrocious, constantly either sick or skipped class to go somewhere downtown and be caught by the sheriff. If he did go to school, it was never for long. There’d be a panic through the faculty and staff, running around and searching in every nook and cranny for the boy.

“He’s unruly, Mrs. Palmer. Something must be done. We are sympathetic and trying to compromise, but if he keeps this up-”

“We’re trying, just… give us time. He’s dealing with a lot right now.”

On average, word in Twin Peaks spread like the flu. There was all sorts of speculation on Dale and just how the Palmers found him, the majority of which was unsavory, to say the least. The family turned from a subject of admiration to gossip.

Unlike Sarah, Leland had little patience for any of this. None at all, actually. Not if he had to receive one more call to his office from the principal in the middle of important casework, in the middle of a meeting, in the middle of catching up to deadline, and so on. There was a noticeable change in Dale sometime in early 1970. He was still quiet, but visibly forced himself to talk and stay with his cub scout troop during their mini-expeditions and scavenger hunts rather than run off into the forest. His teachers no longer had to search for him between classes because he arrived on time and made no requests for bathroom breaks, there were no more tantrums at the jungle gym and one student could even gladly say that Dale had become a sort of friend. Strange, sure, but who could complain now that he sat still and listened? He wore a small tux during galas and pinned a half-hearted smile to his face whenever the adults asked him what his favorite school subject was or his favorite color, or whatever he wanted to be when he grew up. And he answered all of these with scripted enthusiasm while everyone praised his maturity and willingness to come out of his shell, then darted right back to Sarah’s side.

In truth, the second they got home, Dale retreated to his room and stayed there for the rest of the evening. Unless it was to go into the backyard and stand under the trees. Douglas firs were his favorite thing about the place, from their powerful structure towering over everything in sight, to their gorgeous smell wafting through the Pacific air. If he ignored the houses on the other side of the property, he could imagine the trees stretching for miles and if he kept walking he would reach White Tail Mountain and build a little home there, where he’d rest on the porch everyday until he’d hear an owl, and Dale would go back inside.

“White Tail is beautiful,” Sarah said, “But don’t stay for long, We’ll miss you.” She’d sigh in relief whenever she watched him through the kitchen window. These were the few times she observed him in a truly peaceful state. Rocks he found in the dirt filled up the mantelpiece, some shaped like stars and others like hearts. He found a good sturdy maple branch, sanded down with tools from his pinewood derby tool kit, tied a piece of leather to the end, turning it into a hiking pole that he proudly presented to his parents at dinner, and they applauded his handy work. While Leland, as usual, was far too swamped with work or tired after a long day to go out and play, Sarah gladly laid out a blanket on the grass and packed a basket of snacks and sandwiches. They’d talk about things no therapist could get out of Dale. He spoke about dreams, his favorite shows, missing his favorite foods. His birth family was still off the table, but Sarah was delighted as ever to hear him talk. She promised to bake him apple pies and breakfast caroles like nothing he’d ever tasted before. For once, Leland was able to pull away from the files and phone calls and do as Sarah asked. They watch television together and let Dale pick. “Hawaii 5-0!” He cheered, and watched with intense devotion Jack Lord’s character solve the crime of the week. Then he’d get up and strike the pose Lord made in the opening credits.

“Uncanny! You could be twins!” Leland complimented.

Dale furrowed his brow, “Uncanny?”

“Curious or unusual, baby.” Sarah answered. “Do you like cop shows?”

“I love ‘em! They look so cool!”

“Would you like to be a police officer?”

“I think I want to be a double agent.” He said, as if in a dream.

November of 1970, Leland announced to the full Great Northern dining hall as loudly as his voice could carry that his wife was pregnant. And did their circle ever celebrate. Constant questions, boy or girl, what will they name it, etc. Apart from a couple close friends, such as Dr. Will Hayward and his wife, Eileen, who were expecting their own child, hardly anyone asked about Dale unless to see if he was behaving himself around Sarah so she wouldn’t be stressed. No one could be certain just how he felt about this whole thing because from the minute Sarah began to show Dale retreated back to his asocial habits, only this time he didn’t cause trouble, he simply faded into the background.

“Do you think he is excited to be a brother?” Ms. Hill asked her neighbor, Mrs. Lovat. 

“He’ll be much more bothersome now that he’s not going to receive any more attention.”

These were the things Dale heard while hiding in the stairwell during the baby shower.

July 22nd, 1971, Sarah gave birth to a girl they named Laura, after her maternal grandmother. Incredible blue eyes, bright blonde hair with touches of strawberry, and a face as plump and red as a peach, she straight away became the darling of her parents’ social circle.

Then came another surprising change. Dale almost seemed determined to prove everyone wrong, growing more outgoing and, dare some say it, normal. And genuinely so. Laura was the apple of her mother and father’s eye but Dale’s instantaneous protective attitude over her rivaled anyone else's. He would hardly be seen without her, always carting her around the yard to place his make-believe crime scene, or patiently holding her hand as she toddled by his side down the street. He talked to her openly while she could only respond with a blank look since the ability to communicate in full sentences hadn’t yet arrived. With his cap gun firmly secured to his belt loop, he was the chief of police and Laura the prime suspect, or he was the private eye and she his rookie partner, and together they turned heads and rebuilt that sweet picturesque Palmer house. Even his chronic illness, once a point of harsh judgment, ended up endearing Dale to many. “The poor darling.” They’d say. 

Dale Palmer, star student at Twin Peaks high school, had fully integrated into the little town. Amazing grades, dozens of Boy Scout badges, slow but increasing health, purportedly eyeing a position on the track and field team, and dating the modest little sister of Double R diner’s Norma Jennings, Annie Blackburn. He’d racked up a bit of a resume thanks to experience as Ben Horne’s intern, and given glowing compliments. Laura Palmer, tiny and cute as a button, still only in day care, already presented a great deal of potential. She glowed with optimism and made it a mission to never bore anyone. As one could imagine, she grew up practically sewn to her brother’s hip. 

Leland poured his coworkers champagne and Ben reached over to light his friend’s cigar. If not for his son’s after-graduation plans, he’d be fuming, irate and raving about Dale’s refusal to continue the internship. But government work? Now that sounded promising! An FBI agent from Twin Peaks! _Wouldn’t that be something,_ they all thought.

There were a handful of incidents that revealed to folks that things hadn’t been as joyful since Laura’s birth as they were led to believe.

One of the track runners burst into Coach Roy’s office imploring him to call an ambulance. No one was positive about what exactly happened. They knew the _medical_ _cause_ , and the possible conclusions were no less disturbing. Gradual bleach poisoning that worsened Dale’s asthma. No air flow, no heart rate, resuscitated and comatose for a good week and a half. Some speculate it was a suicide attempt, and if that were so, it’d make an odd and inefficient method. They all wondered how he managed to feign a healthy attitude to go to try-outs. Leland just shook his head, “If he knew he was feeling bad, he would have said something.”

Graduation day. Ben Horne told his associates that Leland was in a “down-trodden” mood at a seminar while Sarah relayed to her girlfriends that he was highly disappointed in Dale. Both were understatements. When Dale confessed to his father he’d be forgetting about college applications and head straight to the mill for work, the ensuing outburst was uglier than anything the family had seen in ages. What followed was Dale, suitcase in hand, stomping to his car without a moment’s thought for anything behind him, not his mother begging for him to come back and make amends, or his sister crying and screaming on the front lawn before getting dragged back inside. That house saw a horrible scar. The family dynamic experienced a vast shift, where Dale kept a distance and Leland encouraged it. A hormone driven explosion in a desperate bid for independence, years of pent up rage, whatever anyone called it, the flames never seemed to completely extinguish as everyone calmed down and rationally exchanged words. He went home on occasion, mostly for Laura who, by the time she turned ten, talked less and threw fits. 

Dale took a position at the mill while Laura’s demeanor evened out over time. Leland and Dale met up one afternoon and agreed on a present for Laura: an adorable fluffy white cat that she named Jupiter. The four of them had an easy-going conversation that ended with praise and hugs. Dale let slip that he had plans to propose to Annie, he was just looking for the right opportunity. 1983, one month after Laura turned twelve, she made a panicked call to her brother’s apartment late at night. He rushed her over to the hospital with her in his arms, and asked specifically for Doctor Hayward. Nothing else was said. Nurses that spend their free time in the local Roadhouse bar may have theorized what it meant, and someone else heard it, then someone heard from them, until it dispersed into vague baseless claims. 

1984, fall, Annie Blackburn left town. Alone. It was near impossible for this to go unsaid, not when Norma raises her voice in front of customers and orders Dale to leave at once. Laura hopped on her bike in the dead of night to discover Dale’s car parked right outside of the diner. It was the first time she ever saw him cry. Back at the house, Sarah coiled around her son, sharing the tears, and Leland watchfully stood beside both of them. 

Laura began attending Twin Peaks high. Her teachers were glad to see she was filling her brother’s impressive shoes with her good grades and plenty of extra-curricular activities. Sometimes they’d ask how he’s doing and she’d say he’s fine even though she’s not sure. She fell into her mundane routine of school, homework, clubs, free time friends, and one-fourth empty dinner tables. As far as everyone was concerned, that’s where it ended.

The spring of 1985 arrived. Dale made an announcement to his parents that he quit the mill for this reason, “I’ve applied for the Sheriff’s department.”

“As a secretary?”

“No,” he laughed, “As a deputy. My training will begin within the month.”


	2. Chapter 2

His long gray hair touched their backs. One calloused, taloned hand on Laura’s neck, the other on a young man laying beside her. Pinned to the floor on their backs, his knees on either of their chests, they were static and rigid as ice, and just as cold. Laura’s eyes were fixed straight ahead, no amount of willpower allowed her to make an escape or see clearly who the man was. There was a faint echoing of ominous chats surrounding the foreign halls. She knew the gray haired man’s voice as guttural and dog-like, and he was silent. There were multiple voices in unison, low and mystifying, casting a spell in a language that couldn’t exist anywhere on Earth. Laura understood by some dreamworld instinct that they were saying “Only one vessel,” over and over.

A single voice arrived out of the chorus, this one heavy, intense, and somewhat husky. He sounded far more human than the gray man, but warped, like a recording on a dying record.

“Choose,” he said, “The boy or the girl.”

“I want the boy.” The gray man growled, “He escaped me once. He will not escape again.”

“He is strong, but you will find,” the husky man went on, “he is difficult to break.”

“The girl then.” His claws bore into her neck. She felt no blood trickle down her skin, but her bare spine was firmly in his grasp. “She is still young.”

The husky man must have nodded. Up from the floor Laura rose by her throat to meet the gray man’s fierce empty eyes, her arms and feet dangling. Again she fought to move any inch of herself, but she’d been rendered limp and doll-like. 

“The boy. He will get in the way.”

“If you must,” replied the husky man in a resigned tone, “kill him.”

The gray man let go of Laura, but she was made of helium in this world and floated in place, back bent and legs spread apart. He stood above the young man on the floor eagerly smiling for what comes next. Appearing in his hand was a red ribbon tied in a bulbous knot. He stuck it down the man’s gullet and turned back to Laura. No part of her moved, but she could feel her eyelids flair open and her mouth stretch to scream as the gray man placed himself between her legs.

* * *

The night was cool and liberating on Laura Palmer’s skin. It nursed the stinging aches on her cheek and under her skirt. She left all her cares behind and imagined the air was a boy running his hands up her side and learned from every pore what she wanted. The Chevy roof she swayed on became a ballroom floor and the distorted jazz playing over the radio turned into gorgeous orchestration. The group of boys she tagged along with to this rundown bar didn’t know what she wanted, and she laughed at how they’d react if she told them. 

“Something wrong, baby?” The one standing below her holding a beer asked.

“Nothin’.” She said, and threw her head back, feeling twice her age, and not in the way her mother so often jokes about herself, but in the sensual, wise, and governing way of a woman that had seen many nights like these before. The fire on her cheek died down and her legs got used to tight lace stockings she stole from her mother’s dresser drawer. Sarah was so much skinnier than her. Laura hoped to one day be that skinny.

The boy sitting in the car seat shut off the music and demanded everyone shut their mouths. A police siren screamed about a mile down the road, red and blue lights scraping the sides of the trees. The gang ducked behind the dumpster and prepared to make a break for the woods.

“My fuckin’ Chevy, Brian!” The driver cried.

“You can grab it later! I don’t wanna get caught because-a you!”

A Crown Victoria drove into the back lot while two other cars stopped in the front. Sheriff Truman’s familiar brown stetson was silhouetted against the bar’s neon sign. The cop in the passenger's seat got out and followed him through the back door. In the red neon glow, the face of Laura’s older brother was clear. Dale Palmer looked unusually well groomed for a beat cop and for what is typical of him, and tiny in the woolen collar jacket. He was especially tall, but small in frame. If you never saw him in person you could easily assume he was 5 foot nothing and breakable as a twig. Laura felt like laughing again until the boys hurried farther into the brush.

The squad went inside and minutes later pulled out Leo Johnson in cuffs, crying foul play and calling everyone’s mother a slur. She was in awe at the swiftness and steadiness her brother displayed as he thoroughly pinned Leo - a man, horizontally, twice that of Dale - against the car door and repeated the Miranda rights in perfect assertive fashion. She thought for a second what would happen if she allowed herself to get caught. Jump out in front of Dale and shout, “Surprise!” But her legs began to feel sore again and her cheek burned hot. Once the Victorias pulled out, Laura and the rest of the boys hopped in the Chevy and sped off.

* * *

By the next morning, most everyone knew of Leo Johnson’s arrest and assault charge, and especially of the new young man on the force. The first thing Bobby Briggs and Donna Hayward did upon seeing Laura was tease her about it, which she was in no mood to hear.

Her head was clouded from the night before and returned her to a dull world. Her legs and groin cramped up when she crawled out of bed and her cheek throbbed, turning into a ghastly purple. The clearest memory she had of that night was sneaking into the house, getting dressed into her pajamas and carefully overturning a table before waking her mother and father up with a hard slam of her foot on the floor. Successfully, they took the bait.

Bobby grabbed Laura’s fading attention by putting on his best Dale impression, shoulders square and arms fixed at the sides, and he pulled his hair back with the spit-covered palm of his hand to complete the image.

Laura wasn’t so amused. “You saw him, I guess?”

Donna giggled, “He talked to my dad in the driveway. Bobby says he saw him at the Double R. I didn’t recognize him at first!”

Bobby slowed their walk to school with his insistence on the impression. He widened his stride, buttoned up his jacket and stuck a pencil in his mouth. “Gee, this murder case sure is the bee’s knees!”

“He doesn’t smoke,” Laura took the pencil from him, “And he doesn’t talk like that.”

“So it was okay when he _wasn’t_ a cop?”

“C’mon, Bobby, Dale’s pretty cool.” Donna objected. 

“Donna, I don’t wanna know what your idea of cool is.” He slumped back into his natural pose and stuck his hands in his pockets, then his eyes grew wide when he finally noticed the bandage covering the spreading purple. “Whoa what happened there?”

“What?” Donna blocked Laura’s path and gasped, “Where’d that come from?”

“I fell.” Laura said mildly.

“Looks like someone socked ya.”

“I got up at night for a glass of water and fell on the coffee table.”

“Laura,” Donna sighed, “You need to be more careful.”

The girls went to their homeroom and Bobby went to his, still striding. Donna continued the subject despite Laura's loss of interest, the buzz of last night still on her mind. She tried remembering the wonderful adult feelings she experienced atop that Chevy, before reaching the sobering idea of Dale’s face upon finding his sister there, acting in that strange manner.

“I always thought he’d work with your dad and Mr. Horne. You know, a businessman.” Donna said

Laura snapped back to reality. “I remember he wanted to be with the FBI. No idea why he dropped it.”

“That would have been way cooler than a cop.”

The image of Dale in a slick black suit instead of the Twin Peaks department’s standard jacket, khaki button-up shirt, and brown slacks fit better in her head. He’d spent a lot of his time in suits - though not black, blue was his favorite. That itself took some getting used to. When she was much smaller, Dale’s consistent appearance was disheveled, at least compared to Mom, Dad and the people they often invited to the house for dinner parties and games. Really, he dressed like any other teenager that didn’t appreciate being dragged everywhere. After some stern convincing by Mom and Dad, he swallowed his pride.

“You should look presentable for our guests. It’s the _least_ you can do.”

“Dear, you’re so handsome! You just need to be more confident.” 

Laura never minded getting done-up. She loved the compliments and feeling pretty in the dresses Dad bought her just for the Great Northern events. The only thing she and Dale hated together was the touching. Mom tugging on Laura’s bows when they came undone, Dad fixing Dale’s tie every other minute, the hair-tousling. They groaned and rolled their eyes, but didn’t protest. If they played along and smiled, it would be over sooner. 

The Palmer house had been down to three for years now, but today it felt particularly short of a member. Mom was somewhere in the house, Dad was out to work as always and likely to stay out until an incredibly late hour he’ll vehemently defend against his wife’s complaints. Jupiter was likely in someone else’s backyard, pouncing on rats and birds for gifts to bring home. Laura couldn’t decide between going upstairs or going back out for something to eat; she wanted to watch some TV and feel less alone, but decided quiet was best in case Mom was asleep or she runs into the living room demanding to know when it was that she came home.

Homework was three pages of algebra problems, literary analysis on act two of this Shakespeare play, and ten essay questions on the Louisiana Purchase. Staring at the stacks of textbooks made Laura resent Dale for graduating high school before her. At ten o’ clock, she’ll climb down her window or tiptoe out the back door for another night out at the bar, or wherever those boys wanted to go next, hopefully with no interruptions this time.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Palmers discuss matters with the Hornes over breakfast. Dale and Laura have a chat.

Saturday Morning, Dad got everyone out of bed early for breakfast at the Great Northern and Laura’s body couldn’t scream harder in disagreement. She’d just relearned how to fall asleep when her parents pulled her out of bed, into a fresh set of clothes, and out the door, her head still lost in the remnants of an unpleasant dream. Each passing building and tree disappeared from her world and her eyelids grew heavier and heavier. Until Leland turned away from the road to reach into the passenger seat and shake Laura back to consciousness.

Sarah screamed, her shrill voice startling Laura awake in time to stop herself from hitting the car door while Leland regained control of the wheel. A loud honk from a passing car vanished down the opposite lane.

“Dammit!” He stuck his head out of the window, “Are you insane?!” He had both hands on the wheel this time and shook his head. “Bastards in this town don’t know how to drive!”

“Oh calm down, please. Laura, are you alright, sweetie?”

Laura took a second to think about that. “I’m okay.”

“You need to get to bed earlier. We won’t have you falling asleep at the breakfast table.”

“Yes sir.”

While Laura focused all of her energy on staying awake, Ben and Dad talked about the usual finances and real estate and whatever foreign investor is sitting on a stick the size of Texas, Ben and Mom talked pleasantries with mild disinterest, and Ben threw questions at Laura about school and future plans, the typical stuff every adult asked about because that’s all they think can go on in a teenager’s life. Sylvia Horne, Ben’s wife, sat beside him and sipped a brandy with a sour look. Her husband gave her a side glance and sucked in a long breath. “Six o’clock somewhere, right?” He said, looking at Leland and smiling caustically. 

“Oh, I can’t disagree, Sylvia,” Leland said, “Sarah can get a bit eager herself.”

The two men shared a knowing laugh, “Ah, you’ve got to be careful, Laura. This point of your life is one for breaking habits, not making them.” Ben winked at her and placed a Cuban cigar between his teeth. She mindfully ate her specially-made pancakes, apples and cinnamon with jelly, and tried not to reach up for the light purple bump in her cheek. It hurt much less now, but it distracted from the muscle aches in her legs, and she didn’t exactly want to reach down there. She began to wonder, if at some point, she had pulled a muscle, or worse. _I can’t call Dale again,_ she thought.

Sarah put down her fork and asked Sylvia, “So how’s Johnny?”

“He’s hit a wall, as his therapist likes to say. He won’t talk.” She replied, hardly removing the drink glass from her lips.

“Oh,” Sarah paused, then said, “What about Audrey?”

Ben smashed the cigar into his ashtray, “She didn’t want to join us.” And he wiped his mouth with a napkin, then chomped back down on the cigar. “But let’s get down to business. _Dale_.”

Leland smiled, “Oh yes.”

“A deputy. I _never_ imagined!”

“I know. Came as a surprise to us too. Well, he did want to be a secret agent or something, I’m not quite sure.”

Sarah spoke up, “FBI. When he was younger.”

“Yes, younger. But it was… a bit too out of his range.”

“He had the grades.” Sarah replied.

“Grades aren’t all that makes a man of the law. It takes… cunning, communication-”

“Assertiveness.” Ben added.

“Yes! Dale never really expressed that. So, something small like our police force where I bet he feels right at home.”

“He would have been magnificent on my board.” Ben mused.

Laura looked up at him. “Wouldn’t you need to be a little assertive for that?” She asked.

“Only to a person’s face. Real estate, my dear, is less putting your foot down with a hard stomp, and more tapping in time. You learn the dance and take the lead.” And he winked again.

“I suppose he didn’t want to move away from us.” Sarah said wistfully.

“Does he call?” Asked Sylvia

“Yes, but not for very long. He’s always so busy.”

“Not the talkative type.” Leland interjected.

“He’s just busy.”

Ben continued on, “How’s the, uh, _girl_ trouble?”

Leland waved his hand nonchalantly, “Oh, it’s in the past. Although he was down in the dumps for a while.”

“The boy is not exactly a casanova.” Ben laughed, “I remember he’d been having problems since, what was it, highschool?”

“It’s a shame,” Sarah said quietly, “They seemed so happy together. He woke me up the night he asked Annie to their homecoming dance.”

“He just needed to get out of his comfort zone. I swear, making him interact with people was like leading a horse to water.”

“The pictures were wonderful. He looked so sweet in his tux…”

“I suppose he gets it from his birth family.”

“He was so excited…”

“Of course, Sarah wouldn’t let me push him too hard. It’s not like he _needed_ some control.”

“The poor immune system likely didn’t help.”

“Children don’t just get sick _that_ often, Sarah.”

Laura’s head lowered closer to the table, pulled by the combined weight of lost hours of sleep and desperately wanting to sink into the Great Northern dining hall floor so she didn’t have to keep listening to all of this. Her eyes caught something in their corner: a dark-haired girl her age, a girl that was most certainly Audrey Horne, hiding behind one of the hotel’s decorative totem poles and then slinked off down the hall. 

“Law enforcement does wonders for discipline, Leland. Dare I say it, on par with the military. A friend of mine had his son train after graduating. Within the month, burn-out to a noteworthy officer! Aw, Leland, our boys have some growing up to do. But you don’t need anything like that, right Laura?”

She raised her head, “Hmm?”

“No hooligan behavior? Plenty of friends?”

“She’s very social!”

“And incredible grades!”

“Why I bet you could graduate early! Right? What are you thinking of doing afterwards? Oh, well, that’s way off in the future. Maybe you could teach my daughter a thing or two about maturity.”

Ben patted Laura’s hand and ran a finger down her thumb. She didn’t pull away; she didn’t want to be rude. “Leland, a few more years and you’ll have an empty nest.”

“I know,” And he caressed the side of Laura’s head, “Like weeds.”

Sarah nodded nostalgically. Sylvia continued drinking as if she’d only just now sat down. 

* * *

After the drive home, Laura pulled herself up the staircase case to her room and crawled into bed. The metal bed springs momentarily unfurled and the quilts swallowed her up and mercifully muffled the throbbing blood vessels inside her head. Sweet Jupiter, light as a feather, tread over her back and nuzzled her face. Dad opened her bedroom door and peeked his head inside. “Sweetheart, Sylvia had asked me if you would be interested in reading to Johnny on the weekends. They offered to pay.”

“I’ll think about it, Dad.”

“Alrighty then.” And walked back down stairs.

He’d left the door open, but Laura couldn’t care enough to close it right now. She pulled the quilt down from over her eyes and stared blankly at her closet door, then rolled over, fighting the throbbing, and saw her closed and locked window. She hid under the quilt with Jupiter again and let a long needed nap pull her in until Mom, unusually excited, called her to the kitchen.

“Laura! It’s Dale! He wants to talk to you!”

The nap would have to wait. The first real burst of energy zapped her like lightning and sent her downstairs, Jupiter behind her, to grab the phone from her mother.

“Hey, they drive you up the wall yet?” Her brother’s same precise voice, every syllable distinctly vocalized, and a smile you could clearly hear.

“No. But they're trying.” Laura twirled the phone cord around her wrist, bopping on her heels and feeling a million times lighter. She smiled at Mom, who smiled back, and went upstairs to her room. The white fluff-ball weaved between her feet.

Dale laughed, and then said, “I’m sorry I’ve been so quiet lately. I know I usually call more.”

“Yeah.”

“And drop by more.”

“...Yeah.”

Dale sighed, “I’m sorry, Laura.”

“You’re fine,” She hesitated, “I’m sure you’re busy.”

“Are you doing alright? How are classes?”

“I hate algebra.”

“Who do you have?”

“Clements.”

“Oh yeah,” He chuckled, “She’ll send you through the wringer.”

“She keeps assigning work and doesn’t go over everything we have to do. And there are special instructions like writing in full sentences in black ink, but she doesn’t tell us when we’re supposed to do that.” Laura went on, “And whenever we ask questions, she has this awful look on her face, like we spat at her or something.” Suddenly, Laura opened up completely, ranting and spilling every notable detail that happened over the last couple weeks or so.

“My bruise won't go away fast enough. And it hurts getting out of bed in the morning.”

“That’s right, Mom told me you fell. Are you alright?”

Laura bit down on her lip, realizing she’d already said too much at this point. She peered around the kitchen door frame and spotted her father sitting in his armchair reading a paper, “Hold on, I’m gonna use the upstairs phone.”

“Alright.”

Laura placed the call on hold and put the handset back on the receiver, then rushed to the second floor hall by way of the back set of stairs. Another phone sat on a side table right by the stairwell. She picked up the handset to resume the call.

“Yes, I’m fine. What about you?”

“Oh I’m getting along. I’d never thought there’d be this much paperwork. You should see it, Laura. Mountains of it on my desk every time I walk in.”

“You have your own desk?”

“My own desk, my own locker, like high school but without Clements.” And they both giggled. “Mom tells me you’re hanging out with Bobby Briggs.” There was an audible inflection of a mischievous grin.

Laura rolled her eyes, “God, it’s not what you think.”

“Alright.”

“Really!”

“I believe you.” 

She huffed and snapped, “How’s Annie, then?”

“She’s…” A pause, “Taking her time.” His voice wilted. Her brief need to get back at her brother for his invasiveness struck a guilty chord, and she immediately backed off from the topic. 

“Okay,” And then apologized, “Sorry.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it. It’s, uh… I wish I could say ‘adult things.’”

“Gotchya.” Laura agreed. Somewhat. _Adult things._ If only he’d known or had a fraction of a clue of what his sister was getting up to at night. And then Laura shivered again and forced the conversation ahead.

“I had a weird dream.”

“Uh oh,” And there was the sound of Dale slumping into a leather chair, “With Toto, too?”

“It was… um…”

“Yeah?”

Perhaps it was a wire readjusting inside the handset or her nails tapping on the metal, but there was a faint click sound from over the line. She looked up and down the hall, at her parents bedroom door and down the stairwell, and then covered her hand over her mouth and the phone’s mouthpiece and cautiously whispered her dream into it. There was a long silence, long enough to make her think that the call was cut off. Then Dale spoke. “You know he’s imaginary, Laura.”

Her hands tightly gripped the handset, “I know.”

“You don’t leave the window open at night, do you?”

“No. Why would I?”

“I’m just wondering.” 

The chord snaked around Laura’s arm. She pivoted on her feet and slumped against the wall. Dale’s chair creaked again and again, indicating he was rocking in it.

“Did you catch any bad guys?” Laura asked.

“We’re working on a case right now.”

“Mm hm.”

“Drug trafficking. Stay alert out there. Especially at night.”

“Sure.” And more quiet. Silence was always more fun when the person was in the room with you. They could lie about the living room and watch the blades of the ceiling fan spin faster and faster and if it went fast enough, they’d turn into a solid white circle that could switch to black if you squint your eyes. Now, all that Laura could think about was a time limit. When would Dale need to hang up and get back to his job and adult life and adult worries, like girlfriends and work?

As if he could hear Laura’s loneliness, Dale piped up, “Listen, I’m gonna try to call as much as I can, okay?”

“Okay.” She responded, blankly. 

“I promise. Sometimes there’s a lot going on in one day, but I _will_ try. You can count on that.” His voice grew louder, “And I’ll write letters. And makes plans for breakfast on the weekends.”

“Okay.”

“I promise, Laura.”

The phone cord strangled her finger and turned it bright white, “Pinky promise?”

Dale chuckled, “Pinky promise.”

Laura lifted up her little finger, the cord still attached, “Are you holding it up?”

“It’s up in the air.”

“Are you wiggling it?”

“Like a little worm.” They laughed again and wrapped up the call.

“Did you talk to Mom?” She asked.

“Yes, for a bit.”

“Do you want to talk to Dad?”

“No, I have to get to something. Tell him I said ‘hi.’ Talk later, Laura.”

“Okay. Later.”

The lighter-than-air feeling melted away when she put the phone down. She bunched up her fists and wanted to make holes in the wall. Downstairs, Laura found her dad in the kitchen going through some files he brought home. She reluctantly leaned over the back of his chair and wrapped her arms around him. “Laura...” He began, annoyed.

“Sorry, Dad.”

“Another time.” He said.

Jupiter anxiously rubbed the back door and Laura opened it for him. The white dot vanished around the house, and Laura left for her room, where she would sit on the bed, not falling asleep, for the rest of the day. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sibling communication: like bringing a horse to water.

Leo Johnson had been released from custody with only a hefty fine he paid in record time and a slap on the wrist, a light sentence if there ever was one for beating a barfly bloody, but a massive inconvenience of his time, money, and dignity worthy of ranting about in the middle of the Roadhouse bar. “I can’t believe they gave the soap-eater a fucking gun! That pencil-neck fucker of all the fucking people!” 

A boy pressed Laura up against the wooden walls of the farthest corner-booth. She breathed in and parted her lips enough to let his in, but reflexively kept pursing them together.

“I’m gonna fuck him up!”

“God, he’s not worth it Leo.” One of Leo’s pals assured him.

Laura glanced over the boy’s shoulder and watched Leo flail his arms and spill his beer. Her eyes remained alert and fixed on him until he and the rest of his gang got up from their seats and headed for the door. On their way out they walked past the booth; Leo’s eyes met Laura’s and his face contorted into an awful smile. She pushed the boy away and pressed her palm to her cheek.

“How’s the face, darlin’?” He asked.

“I need to go.” Laura begged. The nameless boy didn’t argue and dropped her off at her doorstep with an unceremonious goodbye. She pushed the thrill of her little night out to the back of her head as she quickly rounded the house, climbed up the trestle, and into her bedroom window. And then the excitement completely vanished at the sight of her door.

It was slightly ajar. Laura had _not_ left it that way. God help her if Mom or Dad came in to find their daughter missing. They’d lecture, they’d interrogate until she gave up every name of every boy she ran out with, keep her under lock and key and tell all of their friends and their friend’s friends what Laura did. And Donna wouldn’t look at her the same and neither would Bobby, and Dale would just shake his head in vile disappointment, like he always knew this was coming.

There was a saving grace of rationality, however. If her parents had any idea that she left, they surely would have called the police and waited for her to come back. Everyone was sound asleep as the dark stillness of the house could tell her. And maybe the door wasn’t closed all the way and the hinges got loose. That _had_ to be it.

Laura took a calming breath. She turned the knob and pressed the door into place so the lock wouldn’t click and echo down the hall. Yet as she undressed and curled up under the quilts her eyes could not leave the door knob. Suddenly, the house’s screeching pipes and boards gave away hard and driven, but calculating, footsteps growing closer, past the walls and nearer to the door. Laura fumbled for her table lamp’s lever, then the footsteps abruptly stopped. They were right in front of the door. In what was a moment that Laura could almost see the figure through the wood lift up their foot to take another step closer, they instead turned around and faded back the way they came. The lamp stayed on the whole night. 

In the dim light of her room, the place lost all familiar feelings. Her stuffed animals shot empty glares. The photos on the walls and side table melted into dark puddles behind glass. The bed she once complained about being too small for her long legs stretched out for miles on all sides and no matter how many times she rolled over, there would be no one there.

* * *

Over the following month Dale made good on his promise to stay in touch, not so much staying on the phone for very long, but it was doable. It was better than nothing. Their talks were acceptable; they discussed daily routines and the occasional inconvenient deviation from them. Laura had pop quizzes, Dale had muggings. Nothing earth-shattering was revealed and each conversation became interchangeable, but Laura couldn’t complain. Things felt normal.

What her brother _hadn’t_ fulfilled was his promise to visit in person. “He’s busy,” her father insisted. “Honestly, Laura, Dale wouldn’t appreciate you being so clingy.” Then he would have told her, wouldn’t he? The platitudes grated on her, worse than the constant congratulatory comments that bombarded her every time she went to class or into town. 

“Your parents should be very proud,”

“He’s come such a long way!” 

“A cop? Doesn’t seem to suit him…” 

“I remember when he was such a weirdo.” 

Eileen and Mom gushed about Dale over the phone at the breakfast table. Dad hadn’t left yet; he took his time and listened in on the conversation. “You know, you could learn a thing or two from your brother. He’s really getting out there, giving back to the community.” Laura put away her unfinished plate to join Donna outside and begin their walk to school together

Out of the blue, a police siren chirped at them and a Crown Victoria rolled up from up the street. Laura was ready to dive behind a bush until she noticed Dale in the driver’s seat. He poked his grinning face out the window. “Scared you?”

Donna waved while Laura angrily stared at him. 

“You girls want a ride?”

“No, we’re fine.” She bluntly answered.

But Donna ignored her, “Sure!” She skipped to the car and beckoned Laura to follow. She stood her ground but resigned to their gleeful faces. They threw their bags on the floor, Laura in the front passenger seat, Donna in the back, and pored over the radio devices and gear hooked up to the dashboard. This was a patrol car so there wasn’t a grate separating the compartments for arrested criminals like in the prime time cop shows. Donna leaned forward to analyze the large CB radio,“This is so cool!”

“Isn’t it?” Dale enthusiastically replied. With Laura right beside him, she finally got a good look at him in the police uniform and it surprisingly fit him better than previously thought. She wondered where the wool jacket that swallowed him up was, before realizing she was sitting on it. “I hope I’m not gonna embarrass you!”

“Of course not.” Laura replied without a hint of playfulness.

“We still have a lot of time before the bell rings, would you like anything from the Double R?”

Donna cheered, “Donuts!” Laura’s irritation was nowhere on her radar. 

“You always know what’s on my mind, Donna! Laura, how ‘bout you?”

Really all she wanted was to get out of the car and walk on her own, but that unfinished breakfast caught up and a blueberry muffin always hits the spot.

“I shouldn’t, I already ate. I don’t need more sugar.”

Her brother had an almost vexing ability to detect lies. “You sure?” He asked, alarmed. “I won’t get you a meal, if you want, just a snack. You can save it for lunch, or I can grab you something later-”

“I’m fine. I don’t eat like you.”

An obvious lie, at that, but Dale let it go. They parked beside the front entrance and Dale dashed inside, the girls watched through the glass door from the car windows. Donna turned to Laura and frustratingly asked, “Why are you being so mean to him?”

“He’s my brother. I think that’s part of it.” She said.

“ _My_ sisters and I aren’t like that.”

“You’re the _older_ sibling.”

“You know what I would give to have a big sister or brother?” Donna folded her arms, “Was Dale ever mean to you?”

“Plenty of times.”

“Like when?”

Laura had no intention of answering, but lingered on the examples. There she was, crying in her pajamas. Dad was shouting at the driver seat window while Dale’s Ford ran over the curb and onto the street. She stopped herself to turn her attention to the window and focused on Dale and Norma’s interactions. Her famously kind face turned to stone at the immediate sight of him; she handed him a donut box and a small paper bag while Dale spoke to her with no returned reaction. Donna unlocked the driver door for him.

“Thank you, Donna.”

“You’re welcome. Thank you for the donuts!” She said, and grabbed a chocolate glaze from the box.

“You are very welcome. Here you are, Laura.” He passed her the paper bag containing a blueberry muffin.

“I said I didn’t want anything.”

“Yes.”

“So why did you get me something?”

“Because.” His demeanor had deflated. The car pulled out of the parking space en route to Twin Peaks High.

“I said I wasn’t hungry.”

Dale side-eyed her. “You don’t have to eat it now.”

She crinkled the paper bag in her hands, practically egging Dale on to say something. He pulled up beside the curb. Donna climbed out and thanked him.

“Don’t mention it!”

Laura didn’t move, every pair of eyes outside were directed her way. “There’s Bobby.” Dale noted. Bobby looked especially tickled by this. He then looked her way and softened up, “Would you like me to keep going while you tuck and roll?” And Laura’s hard face cracked, snorting, and clutching the blueberry muffin in her hands. Dale’s grin turned warm, warmer than his stock friendly “How-are-you-doing?” face that he flashes at every stranger and acquaintance. He leaned forward to peek at her cheek, finally healed.

“You wanna tell me what really happened?”

“I told you.” And Laura caught a glimpse of his unconvinced face, “No…”

“Did you get into a fight?”

“Come on-”

“I’m only asking,” he interjected. “I won’t tell anyone else.”

“I didn’t get into a fight.”

“Did someone hit you?”

The words “it’s fine” sat impatiently on her tongue, furious over their repeated use; the little hesitation spoke volumes to Dale. “Tell me who it is right now.”

She hastily rebutted, “No one hit me. No one did anything.”

“Okay,” and then he echoed, “No one did anything.”

“That’s right.”

He leaned back in the driver seat, discontent.“Go on. You’ll be late.”

She averted her eyes from him and yanked her backpack off the floor and onto her shoulder. She swung the passenger door open, but her hand was stuck to the handle. 

“I’ll see you later?”

“Yeah.” He said. 

Then she let go and caught up with Donna at the entrance, the amused voices of students following her. The Victoria moved down the street and to the station.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Laura takes Bobby out to meet her "friends," before the party air is put on hold.

The greatest idea Laura ever had sprung into her head while sneaking out. She asked the owner of the Chevy, a young man named Max, to stop by the Briggs house and wait. It took some convincing to get Bobby in the car, but with a shot of her puppy-dog eyes, he buckled and hopped in. 

“What is this?”

“These are just some friends of mine. We’re gonna hang out for a bit.”

“To do what?”

“Just… hang out. C’mon, Bobby. We’re teenagers. We get to have night lives now!”

There’d be no harm in it; no dancing and kissing. Laura politely suggested that Brian kept off the booze; he sneered, but agreed. To have a familiar face with her outside of school and home would be a much needed breath of fresh air.

This time they weren’t behind a bar, but a creaking, fifty-something year old schoolhouse left to fall apart at every seam. The building itself was unsightly, but the beautiful night sky was worth the drive, remote enough that no state or Twin Peaks deputy would care enough to stake it out, and the mountain side had a gas station dollar store that carried a decent stock of snacks. Brian proposed they make a break for the border. Bobby immediately objected, as did Laura, but she saved that plot in the back of her head for later. 

The whole time, Bobby sat uncomfortably on the car hood, waiting and hoping for someone to say, “Lets head back.” To see his usual obnoxious demeanor under such pressure brought a tiny bit of joy to her. She scooched close to him, her arm pressing against his but their hands just barely touching. He looked down and gulped.

“I think that’s what Leo Johnson does,” Brian wondered, “hops across the border and does whatever he feels like. I think he’s, uh, y’know, into some shit. ‘Connected’ as they say.”

“Leo’s too dumb to be connected.” Said Sean, Max’s friend.

“Yeah, but he’s been jailed before. And you know he didn’t get that corvette on hard work alone. They say he’s a pretty big deal.”

“Who’s they?” Asked Max

“ _ They _ sure do say a lot.” Laura cut in.

The three boys ignored her, “Don’t start with that shit again, man.”

“I mean it, and everyone’s in on it.”

“Then why isn’t anyone letting us in on the good stuff?”

“No one likes us enough, that’s why!”

“Good stuff?” piped up Bobby. Sean and Max exchanged looks and laughed, “Man, that’s right. You kids are still kids.”

Brian cheered, “No age limit on Bolivian Marching Powder!” 

“Technically.” Max shook his head. 

_ Kids.  _ Laura stood up and huffed, “You talking about drugs?” She tried to say with a worldy-wise air.

And Max laughed again,“Who the fuck is this?” He gestured to her for the others, his arms out as if presenting a guest on a game show, “Yeah, drugs, coke, shit like that. I thought you’d know, with your brother being a cop.”

“Cop that put away Leo.” Brian added.

“Would you shut up about Leo? Jesus, suck his dick why don’t ya?”

“I’m not singing praises. He oughta be careful.”

Bobby shifted nervously and emphatically asked, “What’s up with Leo?”

“What I say? He’s connected. And a big guy at that. Laura, you saw what he did in the bar.”

“She didn’t just see it. Felt it!” 

Like a lamp in an interrogation room, Bobby’s eyes zapped her from behind, confused and shocked, and smacking her with the foolishness of her decision to bring him along. Reluctantly turning to see his furrowed face, she got down close to him and clumsily came up with a cover. “We went out and I wanted to go to the bar outside of town.”

Bobby squirmed, “Kendall’s?”

“Yeah, that one. I was curious and Leo was in there throwing a fit about something. I got too close and his fist hit me.”

He gulped again. Laura put on a sweet smile to ease him; she weaved her fingers into his hand and felt his pulse shoot up and out. Even she was taken by surprise and began regretting the move, but his hand felt nice and he didn’t pull away in fear or stiffen up. 

“And the truck stop guy. You know how fucked up he looked?”

“Pow! In the face! Pow! In the stomach! Right hook, left hook, right hook, left hook!” The boys went on, recreating the incident with gusto, throwing each other down and screaming in high pitched voices. Afterward, they went to the dollar store for some cigarettes and jerky. All alone, Laura guided Bobby to the schoolhouse, carefully maneuvering through the tall autumn grass completely shrouded in darkness, the only visible light that wasn’t from the distant store came from the millions of stars spreading from there to Canada, to the Arctic, and wrapping right back around to them. Her hand melted into Bobby’s and her heart flew from her chest. The molting wood door drifted open at the faintest movement of air, revealing the single four walled room. 

The windows had been bordered up while new windows farther up the walls were formed over years of weathering and rotting. The wood planks caved in and let the roof sink into an inverted arch. Impressively, the wood of the roof remained almost entirely intact, save for a rectangular crevice in the center letting in the concentrated starlight. They laid right under in the rectangle, gently stroking their still-locked fingers.

“Do you think I’m horrible?” Laura whispered to Bobby. He didn’t answer and kept staring through the peephole.

“You don’t think I’m… bad for lying?” She whispered again. This time Bobby appeared to have heard her, but waited to let the words out.

“No.” He softly said.

“Really?”

“Yeah, like… why wouldn’t you? About that, I mean?”

Alleviated, Laura squeezed Bobby’s hand tighter. “You won’t tell anyone, will you?”

He squeezed back. “No way, this’ll be our secret.”

“And you won’t tell Donna?”

“You bet.” He timidly smiled at her and she took it with a whole heart.

If you stared long enough you could see the barely detectable movement of the sky rotating around the Earth, and if you held your breath and thought real hard, you could feel the Earth itself rotating. Maybe, Laura thought, if she held Bobby’s hand tight, very right, they could sense it’s revolutions, the solar system spinning violently, and the entire Milky Way with it. All until they fly into a black hole and are ripped apart piece by piece, atom by atom, and those atoms are crushed and divided infinitely. There was comfort in knowing that nothing, not even the hardest of diamonds, was a total, unchanging, solid mass. All you are is bits and pieces of a thing and when you stop being you, those bits and pieces become something else. Laura pictured it, her bits and pieces morphing forever into whatever she pleased. A soaring blue bird or a little cat. Something unbound by school and home and a town resting right beside the Canadian border. Maybe she shouldn’t have turned that trip down, after all...

Time nagged them to let go of one another, so they traced back through the grass where Sean, Max, and Brian waited, puffing cigarettes and chugging a forty. 

Laura gasped and chided them, “You said you wouldn’t drink!” 

Max dropped the bottle from his lips; a stream of liquor poured from the corner of his mouth as he spoke, “I’m still good to drive, honey. It’s just to take the edge off.”

Sean gleefully chimed in, “I could drive.”

“Look- look down there. You see that?” Max stumbled to his feet and directed Sean to the long silver scratch on the front passenger door. “I could put you in charge of a pet rock and you’d starve it.” Bobby’s flustered expression caught Max’s eye. He thrusted the forty into his face and swished the remaining liquor around, “You want a swig?”

“No.” Bobby gently said, and backed up into Laura. Brian pulled Max away and sat him down on the hood. 

“We’re ready to go home.” Laura ordered.

“Sure thing.” Said Brian 

Max grumbled under his breath, swaying back and forth and watched the liquor rippled inside of the bottle. “Next time I’m not being your chauffeur.” 

Laura, Bobby, and Sean squeezed into the back seats while Brian loaded Max into the passenger seat and put himself behind the wheel. One hand on the wheel, the other on Max’s shoulder, he got off the grass and onto the long, twisting mountain road. They were all quiet except for Max, who sang some unknown song in a new key every word. 

In the corner of her eye, Laura could see Bobby’s disturbed expression. His hand loosened around hers and it bothered her deeply. He made that promise, they’d be seeing each other every day at school knowing about this night, they held hands and smiled, so why did he look so worried?  _ Can’t he look at me, _ she thought. The harsh turns of the car forced Bobby into Laura’s space, and she fought the urge to shove him off.

They flew over the familiar bridge, past the lone standing office buildings and stores, right under the permanent red or yellow traffic light, and then finally by the sign labeled Northwestern street. The car abruptly halted, catapulting Laura and Bobby from their seats. “Shit,” Brian grunted. A police pursuit car and two officers stood at the bottom steps of the house with Sarah expressing clear agitation on the lawn. Every pair of eyes in the car looked Laura’s way as she filed through explanations for herself to her mother and each possible outcome if she got out right now.

“I’m not pulling up any closer, babe.”

“Okay.” Laura thought and thought, then Bobby took her hand.

“I’ll get out with you.” He said, “We’ll tell her we went to the Double R.” 

Laura nodded.

Brian slowly backed the car behind a corner and let the two get out onto the sidewalk, then gunned in the other direction. Together, they hiked up to the house, Laura waiting for her mother to scream her name and throw herself into a rant. They indeed saw them with the two cops approaching first; the taller one of the pair, with long black hair and a sturdy jaw, was Deputy Hill, sometimes known as Hawk. Dale had told Laura about him. They worked closely together.

“Where were you two?” Hill questioned in a low voice.

“The Double R, we swear. We lost track of time.” Bobby fumbled a bit but sounded convincing enough. 

“It’s very late, Bobby. Your parents are worried sick. They’ll be having a  _ long _ talk with you.”

“Understood.”

“You too Laura.”

“Your broth-” His partner began but Hill stopped him.

“Better let her mother tell her.”

“Alright…” Laura wavered.

“Come on, Bobby.” He got into the police car with them and looked over his shoulder at her as they drove off. Without warning, Sarah yanked her by the arm, taking her inside, too furious to say anything except command her to sit down and stay there while she went into the kitchen where Laura heard dishes frantically thrown into cabinets and drawers. Sarah briskly grabbed her purse and coat while Laura watched in fearful anticipation, then her mother turned her way and spoke.

“Where were you?”

“The Double R with Bob-”

“You didn’t tell me first!” Sarah howled. She ran her hand up her pained face and through her hair. Laura dared not to move. “We’ll… we’ll talk about this later. Believe me, we will talk about this.”

“Mom, what’s going on?”

Sarah muttered repeatedly, “We’ll talk about this,” and dug through her purse for her keys furiously jingling where her hand couldn’t get to. She threw the purse onto the coffee table, then dumped out and sifted through the contents. “Upstairs,” she gasped. As she went for her bedroom, Laura pleaded with Sarah to answer her.

“Dale was shot. Be ready when I come back down.”

* * *

Laura hurried to the bottom step before her name was shouted and stood at attention while Sarah made an urgent phone call to Leland’s office. Then, wordlessly, got into the car and drove to the town hospital.

Rushing through the hospital wings was like diving head first into a swimming pool before realizing that there was no water in it. This is the kind of thing that only happens to other people, to folks you see on the news, celebrities, senators. Not to herself, Laura thought, and especially not to Dale. 

The nurse ran Sarah down the list of events that transpired after they brought in her son. Laura heard most of it until her glazed over eyes fell on two gurneys rolled into the elevator, their occupants blanketed by white sheets. She snapped out of her trance, bit her lip, and clung to her mother’s sleeve. She looked over the nurse’s shoulder to see which section of the open ER room had her brother. Upon no sight of him, a billion scenarios ran through her head, and her nails dug into Sarah's wrist.

“When can we see him?”

“We’ll let you know.”

“My husband should be here shortly.”

A group of nurses surrounded a gurney, one of them blocking the patient’s face. They pulled the curtains together before Laura could catch another glimpse and her mother jerked her over to the waiting chairs in the hall. There were all sorts of repetitive and loud noises, but she could only focus on Sarah’s mantra. “He should have been a doctor. He should have been an engineer. He should have been…” 

Leland arrived within the hour. He pulled his wife into a tight hug, kissed his daughter on the forehead, and immediately went to work dispelling all of his wife’s concerns.

“I caught Will in the hallway. He says Dale is gonna be just fine, nothing to lose your head over.”

“He was  _ shot _ !” Sarah exclaimed.

“It could have been much worse-”

“Emergency surgery, Leland!”

“It’s all just part of the job, I’m sure. It could have been worse. Sarah, you are making a scene.”

“I can’t take it, he needs to quit. He needs to find something else.”

Laura put her knees up in the seat of her chair and watched the nurses run holes in their shoes.

“You can’t baby him his whole life.”

“We both know he jumped into this without any thought. At least with the FBI he’d be spending most of his time in an office.”

An attendee came out of the open room and grabbed a clipboard off the central desk.

“I always thought you would have been more supportive of him.”

“I have been _ nothing _ but supportive!”

“No,  _ I  _ was supportive, you coddled-”

A nurse pushed open the doors, “You may see him now,” and the Palmers eagerly followed inside.

Laura picked up pace and then burst into a light sprint to throw her arms around her brother’s neck, ignoring their mother’s demands to be gentle. Dale returned the hug as tightly as he could. He wore his typical friendly expression, eyes bright and a healthy complexion in contrast to the bandages and medical equipment that Laura knew were actually driving him nuts. IVs in the left wrist and elbow, electrode wires running over his shoulder and into the monitor, nasal cannula, everything Laura had seen in hospital dramas and soaps.

Dale scooted over in his bed for Laura to sit beside him. Sarah, on the other side of the bed, kissed his cheek while Leland pulled up a chair. 

“They were gonna sell all your stuff for drug money,” Laura quipped.

“Oh my god,” Dale gasped in mock surprise, “even the drugs?” They laughed. Their parents quickly objected.

“Laura, that is not appropriate.”

“She’s making a joke, we would never do that.”

“No, no, I believe you,” He said as Sarah kissed his cheek again and Leland patted his hand, “but I know there are boxes taking up space in the attic.”

Dale recounted the incident with his expected amount of disarming casualness. “We got an anonymous tip from a caller close to the border about a deal. Before I knew it, there was a muzzle flash and I was on the ground. I haven’t heard anything from Harry yet, though I’m sure the perpetrator made a break for the border. I should receive an update at some point.” He shook his head, “Poor Andy couldn’t calm down.”

“You don’t think about that right now, just get your rest.” Leland commanded.

Laura stared in bewilderment and moved away from Dale’s side. “How bad is it? Does it still hurt?”

He looked from her, to Sarah, to Leland, and with a bit of hesitance he lifted the gown just enough to show the layers of gauze and a tiny red stain showing through. “A nine-mil entrance wound is easy pickins for paramedics, but they had to cut it wider to get to the internal damage.”

Laura leaned in. “Did they take it out?”

“Nope.”

“It’s still in you?!”

“Just another thing to worry about at the airport.” He grinned while his sister examined the wound, her wonder clearly upsetting their parents.

Leland then turned toward Sarah, disappointed. “Your mother is suggesting - and I’m mincing words here - that you change professions.”

“Leland...” Sarah began. Her expression fell to sadness as Dale’s own questioning and disheartened face went to her. She searched for a proper argument before Leland could go on.

“Well, mom, I know this didn’t turn out as planned-”

“It  _ is _ dangerous.” Leland agreed.

Sarah nodded. “Yes, it is.”

_ Yes it is _ , thought Laura.

“And Harry and Deputy Hill do have more skill and experience. Are you sure you’re able to keep up? It is a big responsibility, after all.”

Surprised, Dale tried to get a word in. “Of cour-”

“I’m not at all doubting you!”

“No, I know, I’m-”

“But I know how you can be with commitment.” Laura immediately recognized that tone of voice. Leland lowered his gaze and lifted his eyebrows. Dale felt sixteen years younger, sitting in the principal's office. 

“I’m keeping up.” He asserted. Laura sighed.

Their father sat back with a doubtful expression while Sarah grinned and rubbed Dale’s shoulder. They wrapped up paperwork with Doctor Hayward while Laura, feeling younger too and impatiently swinging her feet, thought about how Bobby's night was going. Probably worse than hers if she was lucky enough to have Sarah forget about her running off in the midst of all of this chaos. She cringed at her own thought. How could she be worried about getting grounded with Dale right beside her in a hospital bed? She watched his tired and bitter expression form at the sight of the IV tubes.

Unpleasant memories resurfaced. Mom collapsing into a sobbing wreck, Dad pacing, the sounds and sights of stomach pumps, medicine drips, and the incessant ventilator. He'd been whining about a burning chest and stomach aches keeping him up for days, weeks even. The coughing was surely from allergies, Dad said. "There's no fever. Cover your mouth. You're not ducking out of school again, and you have that track meet whether you like it or not." Trouble breathing? Asthma. “For once, listen and take your inhaler. It’s like you don’t even want to be healthy.” Then one day, right in the middle of a game of tag, Laura's kindergarten teacher comes to carry her away because of a "family emergency," and just as she was winning. She complained the whole time, blocking out explanations, up until the severe moment they entered the ICU.

Laura felt the course sheets and recalled being in a bed just like this one, two years ago. Dale sat beside her, missing a movie date after a long day of work, and calm and attentive as ever. "Do you think I'm gross?" She asked him, teary-eyed. He said no. "You won't tell Mom and Dad, will you?" And he said no again.

Laura leaned her head on Dale's shoulder. "You okay?"

"Yes," he answered, resting his head on hers. "Are you?"

"A little."

Doctor Hayward described recovery time and physical therapy, and hammered out the remaining release details. “I presume he will be staying with you?” He asked.

“Yes, absolutely,” said Leland, “for the time being.”

Her heart nearly skipped a beat. Laura couldn’t have misheard that, could she? Dale kindly objected. “Oh, no. I’ve got my own place.”

“Honey, look at yourself.” Sarah motioned to the entire set up, “You think you should be all alone right now?”

“I’m gonna have to side with your parents here, Dale. It’d be far more convenient for your sake.”

“I don’t want to be a burden.” Dale laid his arm over Laura’s shoulder, “I’d be a real pain to deal with, wouldn’t I?” He flashed a joking smile, but there was something in his eyes that was very serious about all of this.

Leland chuckled and signed whatever it was that Hayward handed him on the clipboard. “You’re acting like we’re not family, son! We’ll get you home and get you comfortable.”

“You can use your old room again!” Sarah cheered.

“Exactly! And I’m sure Laura would be over the moon. Right, sweetheart?”

Indeed, she could barely contain herself upon hearing this. Dale agreed, and Laura went in for a great, big hug. They settled on pick-up early the next morning. She struggled to go to sleep that night, but happily not for the same old reasons. Brian, Max,Sean, even the lingering sensation of Bobby's hand in hers were locked away. Tomorrow, she’d have her big brother back.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dale comes home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDIT: I changed the retirement party date from Thursday to Friday. Swear on my life, cross my heart, this is the LAST retroactive edit I am making to the story.

Sunday morning, 4 o’clock, Laura flew down the stairs and into the car. The family picked up Dale and then drove to his apartment to pack some essentials.

Dale’s minimalist lifestyle heavily contrasted with Laura’s memories of treading a messy bedroom, and Mom bringing up the subject almost daily. He hadn’t added much since he first rented the place, and yet, it was obvious where Annie’s things used to be before she left. 

The bookshelf was organized by some incredibly specific characteristic that Laura couldn’t figure out. Poetry, dogs, self-help books, World War II secret intelligence accounts and methods, meditation, one-dollar romance and mystery novels you’d find sitting at the grocery store counters, atlases, his boy scout manual, and the Kama Sutra - which Laura had unfortunately figured out the meaning of from her cousin Maddy - all grouped together at random. Up and down the empty shelf spaces were trinkets, rocks, pine cones, and photos. Some were of high school friends that had long since left town, others that still lived around the area, some of Mom, some of Dad, aunt Beth and Maddy, grandma and grandpa, Laura now and Laura in her toddler days doing things she doesn’t remember but grimaces at in embarrassment anyways. Annie was eerily absent from every frame.

Mortally wounded deputy Dale Palmer begrudgingly took the guest bedroom upstairs - that used to be his - at the behest of his mother. He struggled with each step but found the strength to express passive aggression whenever he could. Doctor Hayward was kind enough to make house calls and make sure those stitches stayed put. About two weeks of rest and medication, he said, before he’d be healed enough to maintain a semi-normal routine plus physical therapy for about three to four months. Truman left a uselessly cheerful message, wishing a speedy recovery and that they are gladly waiting for his return.

Given the entire day of death-like sleep in bed, coupled with a warm cat to keep him company, Monday arrived before either Laura or Dale knew it. Leland had already left but popped in to say goodbye to his son and to listen to his mother. Laura, beyond ecstatic, pulled Dale out of bed first thing after her alarm went off. Sunday came and went, but Sarah woke herself up early for their standard, plentiful pre-church breakfast: silver dollar pancakes, ham slices, eggs, and oatmeal. There was no coffee, however. “It’s not good to have caffeine right now. Drink your orange juice.”

Sarah lit a cigarette and handed Laura a plate while Dale stared intently at the telephone. Details on the follow-up were scarce and deputies Truman and Hill promised updates ASAP. The floor faintly vibrated under Laura’s feet from Dale’s incessant leg-shaking. Sarah glanced in his direction. “There’s no point in worrying about it. I’m sure they have a handle on it,” she insisted. He bit into his ham slices and Laura watched the two wordlessly argue. The utter chaos of Dale’s plate made her stomach twirl. 

“The force needs every man they have. Men like these need to be brought to justice.” He said, very matter-of-factly, and took a swig of his juice.

“Stop being so over-dramatic. You know, even when you were at the mill, I’ve never seen you take a day off.”

“Because it’s not necessary.”

Laura stopped eating and thanked her father’s crowded schedule for getting him out of the house early.

“You remember Officer Fielding? What happened on that street corner-”

Dale spotted Laura across the table putting down her fork, “Mom, can we discuss this another time?”

She sighed, “Alright,” and stood up, “are you finished?”

“Yes.”

“Give it here.” He handed her the cleaned plate when the phone rang. 

“That’s gotta be for me!” Dale darted for the wall phone with Sarah right on his heels. 

His eyes lit up at the sound of Harry’s voice, nodding and agreeing with each point while Sarah nosely pressed her ear to his head.

“They’ve got a lead!”

“That’s great!”

“They’ll keep me posted. Just another day or so and we can catch this guy.” 

The sudden excited movement caused the very fresh wound to rear its ugly head. Sarah caught him just as he doubled over. “Oh absolutely not,” she protested, “if you think you are anywhere close to getting back out there, you have lost it.” She gingerly wrangled the man to the couch and took out the recommended daily dose of pain medication. A cozy feeling rose up in Laura to see the two spar like this. 

“Mom, I’m not an invalid.”

“Uh uh, you are a patient and need to be treated.”

“You’re not a doctor.”

“I’m your mother. Be quiet and sit down.”

“Whatever you say.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Whatever you say, _ma’am_.”

“That’s more like it.” She threw a quilt over him, handed him the pills with a cup of water, and switched on the TV to her usual soaps. He resisted, both over the medication and the choice of entertainment, reassuring her that his mind and body were functioning at a highly efficient rate achieved only by a well trained spirit, and within the minute, went limp and drowsy. 

“At least keep the phone nearby.” He said weakly.

“If they call, I’ll write it all down.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

Invitation to Love playing and Mom ironing behind the couch where Dale gradually dozed off, Laura finished her entire plate of food plus seconds.

“Hey Laura?” Dale mumbled.

“Yeah?”

“If you see Mrs. Clements, tell her I said ‘hello.’”

She grinned big and wide. “Okay, I will.” And ran off to meet Donna.

Every girl in Laura’s home room crowded around her desk.

“Is he alright? Is he critical?”

“I heard it was a huge shoot-out!”

The teacher ran down the press release and demanded the subject be dropped or else she’d keep the class past the bell. Some girls asked Laura to let Dale know that each one of them, personally, wished him well, and as nice as the sentiment was, Laura would have gladly gone the rest of her life without knowing that she was surrounded by people her age with crushes on her brother.

Out in the hall, Bobby’s face behind a crowd of moving students caught Laura’s eye and she made a break for the girl’s bathroom. The split second she saw him didn’t say a lot, but her mind was already racing.

Mr. and Mrs. Briggs are less strict than Laura’s, though that wasn’t saying much. Mr. Briggs, a military man, held steadfast to his beliefs and training, and spoke slowly but confidently. Laura had seen her own father blow up before, and hoped his outbursts weren’t anything like what Bobby might have seen. She searched for the warm feeling he left in her hand. She got off easy. He’d never want to hold her hand again, would he?

Laura felt short of breath and hurried into a stall. She slid the lock and two girls walked in, talking about Dale.

“My dad says the whole family is a bit off. He thinks it’s because of him.”

“Yeah, I mean, imagine being so screwed up that your girlfriend leaves you for a convent.”

“I don’t think he made her go, she was kinda weird already.” 

Laura listened in and waited for them to leave. Just as she exited the stall, her head bumped into someone and knocked her against the wall. Curly hair pulled back with a headband, designer pink sweater and plaid skirt with a pair of flat Mary Jane shoes all no doubt gifted by Ben Horne from his own department store. Audrey Horne lifted Laura to her feet, apologizing and then found herself at a loss for words, as if she and Laura attending the same school was an entirely new discovery for her. She stammered out, “I-is your brother okay?”

Laura hesitated.“Mm hm,” and she rubbed her head.

“Cool. Can you tell him I said hi?”

“Sure.”

“Thanks.” And Audrey immediately went back outside before Laura could properly apologize in return.

The school bell sounded like a gift to her. The Hayward House came before the Palmers’. Laura parted ways with Donna at her doorstep, and received a fresh loaf of blueberry bread, baked by Eileen, and wrapped in a green paper bag. Bobby Briggs went down the opposite street to his own house. At the first sight of her, he sprinted to catch Laura at her mailbox and met her with a dissatisfied glare. 

“Did you get in trouble?” She meekly, and obtusely, asked.

“Yeah, I did, no thanks to you!” He blurted, then he simmered down, “I’m sorry, just, the hell was the whole deal with that? You hang out with those guys?”

Laura defensively shook her head. “Not all the time. It’s only because they have a car.”

“And Leo too?”

“He was just there! He happened to be there and that was it!”

Bobby’s face went from angry to frightened. “That’s not the whole story, is it?”

There was nothing left that Laura wanted to share with Bobby at the moment. They could worry about all of this later, whenever that was. Given some time, he’d forget about all of this. “I don’t want to talk about it right now. Please.”

“Laura,” he countered, “what is going on? What were you doing at a bar anyways?”

Dale called out from the doorway, he leaned against the frame and held his side, “You two okay?” 

Laura quickly answered, “Yeah, we’re just talking!” 

“Ooookay! Hi Bobby.”

Bobby awkwardly waved back, then a relieved Laura nodded him off and ran up the lawn. Dale carefully laid down on the couch. Jupiter made himself comfortable in a little crevice between the cushion and Dale's neck. The ironing board was put away and the TV had been turned off. She threw her backpack to the ground and placed the bread on the counter of the empty kitchen.

“What’s that you got there?”

“A gift from the Haywards. Blueberry bread.”

“Awww. They always spoil us. Remind me to write a ‘thank you.’”

Laura dropped her shoes by Dale’s and walked around to the dining room, also empty. “Audrey Horne says hi, by the way.”

“Did she? That’s nice. How is she?”

“I don’t know. We didn’t really talk.”

“But she told you to tell me to say hi.”

“So?”

“So you did talk!” He snarked.

“Whatever. Did you guys meet up awhile ago or something?”

“No. I see her around town, but that’s it. She’s a nice girl. You _should_ talk to her.

She plopped down on the couch, resting her legs over his. He was undoubtedly uncomfortable in many more ways than just how he was laying. He restrained his hands from reaching over and pressing on the bandages by balling them up into fists, and gritted his teeth to the point where you could nearly hear a crack.

“How’s the spirit?” Laura jibed.

Dale raised his head, “I could throw you off, you know.”

In most situations, this is where a wrestling match would begin; Laura fighting her way out of a headlock with a bite to Dale’s forearm that she could have easily squirmed her way out of anyhow because, no matter what, her much bigger brother never tries that hard to win. Instead, Laura pinched his nose and he snatched her hand, making Jupiter hop off and scamper out of the room.

“Were you scared you were gonna die?” Laura asked him, half jokingly curious and half scared.

Dale replied in a calm voice. “I wasn’t scared. I wasn’t going to die.”

“But what if you did?”

He went deadpan, “Then I wouldn’t be scared, because I would be dead.” And he let go of her hand so he could tug on her hair. Laura, in turn, ruffled his and made it poof out in all directions. 

She scanned her brother’s face; he was adopted, so he naturally had none of their parents’ traits, but Mom and Dad couldn’t pass him off as their own if they tried. He could be a cousin - Maddy has dark hair from her father - but his jaw is far too angular and his nose too long and pointed to belong to the Palmer bloodline. Laura concocted images of whoever it was that originally had him. Tall, sharp, kind-hearted, and highly eccentric.

“Mom really does want you to quit. She’s worried.”

“She can want whatever.” And he mumbled, “I’m not going back to the mill. Or Ben Horne.”

“I don’t get why you became a cop, either. It’s seems really-”

“Dangerous?”

“Pointless.”

“Why’s that?”

“I don’t know,” Laura fiddled with her own hair, “Why stay in town anyways if you want to leave so badly?” 

Dale didn’t respond.

There was an I Love Lucy marathon that day. Lucy did something silly and Ricky got upset. Dale and Laura passively watched while Sarah continued to not make an appearance. Laura said it wouldn’t surprise her if it turned out she took some of Dale’s pain medication. This got a guilty laugh out of them. Laura struggled through her homework assignments and Dale offered whatever help he could accurately provide. 

Years ago, they’d spend their days like this. Mom would warn Laura to stay at a distance from him, but ignored her all the same because it wasn’t fair that she couldn’t hug him, or that Dad wouldn’t hug him when he could hug her. Doctor Hayward came to the house with homemade pastries and “Get Well Soon” cards Donna decorated with stickers and glitter that got all over the envelopes. Whenever in a blue moon his fever lifted and his stomach settled, Mom let them sleep in the same room, although this annoyed Dad.

“You’re a teenager, your sister can’t share a bed with you.” Neither of them understood why, so they ignored him and were careful to sneak into each other's rooms and back before anyone else woke up. Laura liked to think of them as mini-sleepovers. 

But above all, when they were together, they wouldn’t dream of… **him**.

Laura shimmied under the quilt and Dale gently moved his legs to give her room.

“I had a dream last night.” She said.

“Hmm?” He responded, “About what?”

“We were in a car. Dad was taking us to a campsite and we careened off the road.”

“That’s awful.”

“I had another dream a few nights ago. You were there.”

“Was I?”

“Hm,” Laura propped up a pillow behind her head, “You had wings and could fly. You decided that your true family was with the birds so you went to live in the backyard. Mom brought food for you.”

“That’s nice of her.”

“I think it’s pretty funny. You hate birds. So why would you ever live with them?”

Their father’s car pulled into the drive through, followed by the front door loudly opening and shutting closed.

“Ben not being cooperative?” Asked Dale.

Leland turned around and furrowed his brow; Dale re-evaluated his question. “Everything alright?”

Then Leland chuckled and pulled up a smile like someone would adjust their tie, “Oh it’s nothing to worry about. How are you doing, champ?”

“Breathing.” And both Dale and Laura laughed.

Leland kept his smile before it became a look of assertion when he noticed her on the couch too. “Off.”

She got up and sat down on the armchair by the wall. 

“You’re fourteen, you don’t need to act that way. And your brother’s injured. Have some restraint.” He entered the kitchen and at the same time Sarah came in through the back door. Laura was still and compact in the armchair while Dale, though he had more space, remained constricted in his original position. 

Mom set the table and Dad read his paper. Dale and Laura patiently waited for Sarah to call them in. Pot roast, another Sunday tradition. They decided to skip grace for once and get the ball rolling because today felt “special.” Sarah told Dale that, sadly, the station did not call and eyes drifted over to the kitchen phone again. Leland learned about the blueberry bread and told Dale what he already knew. “Write a ‘thank you’ note,” and then he cheerfully popped off with an announcement, “The Great Northern is holding a little retirement party for a colleague this Friday and I’ve told Ben we’ll be over in a pinch!”

“Leland, really?” Sarah moaned.

“Yes, I’d figured this was a good time now that all of our schedules finally lineup. Dale, Ben wants to ask you a couple questions.”

He turned from the phone, heated. “If it’s about some sales or management position, tell him I’m not interested.”

“Oh come on Dale, at least wait until you’ve heard an offer. He thinks you did fantastic as an intern.”

“... Sure.”

In the second the room was quiet before Sarah ignited a new conversation about what happened in Invitation to Love, and the strangest feeling washed over Laura. Glancing up from her plate, seeing all four of them together felt foreign, and yet like nothing has changed, except now Dale dwarfed their mother and Laura could see over the table without a booster seat. Leland ranted off about how the show hasn’t been good since the Seventies, then launched into a story about a difficult client with a funny accent. Everyone at the table laughed and laughed, and especially at Laura, because she laughed so hard a piece of carrot flew out of her mouth.

Ten o’clock at night, no plans, so Laura laid in bed reading. Dale stayed in the living room and he promised to not fall asleep on the couch. She didn’t hear him come up the stairs yet, so she decided to go check. In the dark downstairs she could make out the black lump of her brother twisted up like a pretzel. First she gently nudged him, then shook him, then she slapped his forehead. “You should be in bed.”

He groaned and moaned to life. “Why aren’t you?” 

“Couldn’t sleep.”

“Hmm.” He furiously rubbed his eyes and stretched out, popping and cracking his joints. His hand unconsciously brushed Laura’s head and he followed her along, one hand on her shoulder and the other on his side. Their bedrooms faced one another at the opposite ends of the landing. Laura prepared to enter her room, but stopped suddenly. The hallway glared at them. The living room darkness rapidly crawled up to meet their feet and soon it would flood the house when they close their doors. She pressed into him and at first he didn’t react beyond a tired “hmp,” and then he fully came to and asked her, “What’s up?”

“Wanna stay in my room?”

“You’re bed’s too small.” And he rubbed his eyes again.

“I’ll make room.”

“Laura,” He put on a silly voice, “there is a _gash_ in my _flesh_.”

She bit back a giggle, but coiled her arms around him, lightly tugging in her room’s direction, “ _Fleeesh_.”

“Yes, fleeeesh,” He got loose and turned her around with both hands, “And it is in a fragile state.”

“I’m not gonna hurt you.”

The sleepiness fell back over him, “You wouldn’t ever,” he yawned, and lazily pressed a kiss on her forehead. “G’night.”

“Night night.”

His door closed behind him.

Laura watched the empty hall creep in on her and hurried to her bed. _He’s right across the hall_ , she kept reminding herself. _He’s right across the hall._ She dared to turn off the lamp light and slip into a dream that turned into a vicious nightmare.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Laura breaks things off with Bobby. Shelly shares some information with Laura. Tensions rise between the Palmers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone needs warnings for it: chapter has mentions of periods and masturbation.

The man with the long gray hair tapped furiously at the shed window, his face curling into an inhuman sneer. Like a magnifying glass above ants, Laura’s skin burned under his gaze; the fire shot through her legs and tore the muscles to shreds, leaving awful, dark red welts. If he opened the shed door, it would be over. There was nowhere to run. What would he do if he came inside and how much would it hurt? She hurried for any plausible defense. Maybe he wanted her to be in pain, and if she smiled and laughed he’d hate that and go away? But what if he didn’t care how she felt, and all he wanted was _her_ _?_ That would be worse, so much worse, because no matter how badly Laura prayed for it, she couldn’t become someone else. 

Beside Laura, laying on a cot, was a stone still body in a black suit. The man outside tapped at her in a little rhythm. She grabbed a chair and propped it against the window in a way that it would hold it in place if he somehow managed to unlock it. He circled the shack, scraping his long nails against the wood and every time he passed the window his face twisted up into a new horrific shape. Backed into the corner where the cot lay, Laura tried to find it in herself to get up and run for it, knowing it was most certainly a lost cause, but at least she’d go down trying. The body on the cot stared up at her, unblinking. She reached down and dragged her finger up his chin, matching the scraping outside. Slowly, her mind registered the jaw, hair, and eyes as familiar. From where, she couldn’t recall. Maybe it would be easier if not for the clawing sharply rising in pitch with each round. From his mouth overflowed clear viscous liquid bubbling slightly between his lips.

The scratching sped up and then stopped outside the door. Then there was a thunderous pounding that shook the entire shed from its foundation. The hinges came loose and Laura scrambled for the man in the bed to wake up, as if there was anything he could do to help her.

* * *

Aching down there again. Laura opened her door and stepped over Jupiter rolling around and meowing for kisses. She lifted him up and rubbed her face in his white coat. She hated leaving him out in the hall, but the door had to remain closed by all means. Locked and… 

Laura analyzed the knob. The lock was a switch, not a button that automatically clicks when turned from the inside. She positively locked it and would have remembered turning the knob, but here it was, the opposite. In her paranoid stupor she might have forgotten, or the switch on her door ingrained itself in her muscle memory to the point that unlocking the door didn’t waste itself filling space in her conscious thought. Yes, that was it. 

Across the landing, Dale’s room was open, empty, and his sheets undone. He and Mom were arguing again.

“Just take the pills.”

“I’m taking the pills. Please give me a second.”

“If you’re in pain, taking the pills will help.”

“They taste awful.” With a hearty gulp, he downed them with water. “How did you do it?”

“What?”

“Childbirth?” He laughed and immediately regretted it when he winced.

“Honey, you’ll be better and this will all be a distant memory.”

Laura couldn’t help but pity her brother, seeing him lay helpless like that, bed-ridden once again and away from a new job he appeared pretty proud of. Her happiness of having him home felt so selfish.

No big breakfast this time. Dale had a bowl of cereal and a plate of the blueberry bread with a slab of butter on the coffee table, and still no coffee mug in sight. Laura knew how badly he itched for that disgusting drink. To her understanding, as a “grown-up” drink, you need an acquired taste, and Dale seemed to have one built into his DNA, as he preferred it straight black. It made zero sense to her, how he could stomach the stuff without a hint of sugar, but still carry that Olympic gold sweet tooth.

“Sleep well?” He said.

“I guess. You?”

“More or less. The medication helped.”

“Then take it!” Sarah yelled from the kitchen.

The pain in Laura’s pelvis screamed at her and she tried to discreetly massage it away through her nightgown, but Dale looked over his shoulder at her. “Something wrong?”

“Oh, I… sorry.” And put her hands behind her back, “I forgot my manners.”

“Manners?” And he smiled confusedly, “When did you get to be so formal?” He adjusted his position so she could sit with him comfortably. She squeezed her legs tightly together and Dale kept moving over to make room, unaware that she wasn’t lacking space but reacting to the stabbing pain. There was Tylenol in the bathroom medicine cabinet upstairs, that would help. Perhaps her period was coming on. Laura attempted keeping records of it to prevent any unexpected messes on her underwear, but time and time again it never wants to fall into a marginally logical pattern, always arriving too early, too late, or skipping all together. Dale, being male, had his own issues to deal with in adolescence, but looked leisurely in comparison. She’d gladly take voice cracking and facial hair over ruined bed sheets.

Sarah allowed Laura to eat in the living room this time and switch the TV over to the morning news. Dale did that annoying thing like their father where after every story he made an audible “hmm” and briefly commented, inciting Laura to respond in some way just to prove she was paying attention. The local Washington state news always skimmed over Twin Peaks and other towns in the area, unless to shed light on Dear Meadow’s rampant meth dealing and prostitution problem, or a couple that went missing in the mountains and found with their heads cut off that’d draw enough eyes and make people say, “What in the world is wrong with those country folk?” 

Seattle, Olympia, and Tacoma were bustling hubs. Those skyscrapers cast long dark shadows behind them and caught glimmering sunlight on their rows upon rows of windows, like an enormous chandelier. Not a single sidewalk was empty, faces passed one another without care or notice, and no birds except pigeons. Not nearly as many trees, though. 

The anchorman stood outside an art-deco style bank and reported a tumultuous money and or sex scandal between the bank’s shareholders, a law firm in Carson City, and some music shop owner with a lazy eye. The FBI have gotten involved.

Laura noted them aloud. “Yup.” Dale said. The tiniest hint of wistfulness floated across his face when the camera panned to a neatly dressed agent running down the public-safe summary of the case and refusing to divulge anything more. The anchorman cued to his co-star standing outside of the state’s university all the way in Pullman. That school was among several on Dale’s application list. Laura asked once just what he would have majored in and he said it was unimportant, but if he went, it would have probably been pharmaceuticals - if that were so, then dropping out as Ben’s intern would make sense. Laura wanted to be a veterinarian, a nurse, or a teacher. She’d been sitting on the Horne’s request to read to Johnny. It might be a good idea.

She hurried to the bathroom for the medicine cabinet, then kissed her mother goodbye and got in a farewell before Dale drifted off. Less people bothered her at her desk today. There was the unfortunate admirer passing a letter to give to Dale out of kindness for his service, then she’d see the lipstick marks stamping the back and front. She wondered if it weren’t cruel to throw the things away - Dale didn’t know any of these girls personally anyhow. Instead she rubbed the lipstick off with a tissue and tossed it in her bag. Donna turned red with glee at the glowing reviews Laura forwarded to her over the blueberry bread. Eileen Hayward has yet to disappoint, and God help them if that day ever comes. 

The day took an interesting turn when long, tall upperclassman Shelly McCauley timidly approached Laura during lunch. Neither she or Donna saw Shelly very often, and could count how many words they said to her on one hand. She quickly smiled out of obligation, as you do when meeting a stranger, and got out a rehearsed request for Laura to go to the Double R when she can. Then left.

The encounter was so bizarre that Donna and Laura had no choice but to giggle and hope Shelly didn’t hear it. Audrey Horne, who Laura noticed was absent from her line of sight in the halls as usual, however unprepared she was, felt much less robotic in nature. Laura asked Donna why on Earth Shelly would have told her to go to the Double R.

“I think she works there now.”

Strange. She sneered, thinking this was yet another act of a classmate revealing a hidden crush on her brother and brushed it off.

Homework was murder as always, especially now that mid terms were on the horizon. Pull through for another two weeks and the freedom of winter break would arrive before she knew it. All the time in the world to do nothing and everything at once. Dad arrived home early and planted a kiss on Mom and Laura, and patted Dale playfully on the head. Dale looked and felt significantly better now that the station called. Sheriff Truman confirmed a lead and have narrowed down a couple suspects they are currently questioning. 

Once Laura finished the required reading and textbook questions, and got cozy in front of the TV, she heard a series of knocks at the front door. Bobby was chucking pebbles a safe distance from the front steps. She angrily marched up to him and he stumbled back. “What do you want?!”

“To talk!” He defensively insisted. He was on thin ice with her.

“Talk! Talk, talk, talk, I’ve talked enough! Why can’t you trust me?”

“Because you’re not being honest with me. Isn’t that something we’re supposed to be doing? Tell the truth?”

His eyes grew wide and pleaded for her to be reasonable. Her mouth gaped open, and then she said, “What do you mean by that?”

“Look, that night in the school house, right? That was something! We… I don’t know! Things are different between us.”

She wavered, confused. She didn’t want to take his hand and have him stay to ask more questions, but if she shewed him off again, he’d only come back more determined for answers she had no idea how to give. A part of her wanted him to get mad, incredibly mad, so he’d leave in a huff and avoid her for a while, but that’d bother her too. Between him and Dale, it seems no one can keep their noses to themselves. Bobby’s eyes stared, large, blue and gorgeous. And despite his rage, harmless. He looked taller than he did before, upright and sturdy. Where was this when they were with Max, Sean, and Brian? Why did she have to bring him out that night to begin with?

“I never said anything about things being different.”

His heart took a hit and sighed, “Then don’t invite me anywhere again!”

He stormed off and Laura hugged herself. She thought, maybe, she should go after him… Boys are fickle, unstable, and Bobby in particular. He’ll be back again, but for some reason she couldn’t shake that expression he had. She sauntered back inside and Dale waited in the kitchen doorway with a concerned look. “Is he upset at you about something?”

Her arms dropped to her side, “I… got him in trouble at school a while ago.”

“Fooor?” He pressed.

“I asked to copy his homework and we got caught.”

“That doesn’t sound like you.”

 _What do you know?_ She rubbed her eyes, and came up with a half-truth, “I had a bad day.”

He slowly walked up to her with cautious apprehension, like he was about to receive some bad news. He asked gently, “Would he have done anything to express his anger?”

She faltered. “Like what?”

“Laura…” Dale tapped his cheek, and the implication of his question dawned on her.

“No.” Initially confidently put, but the very thought to it made her angrier, “No! Bobby would never do that!”

“It was only a question.”

“You know Bobby and he’d never do that to anyone!”

“I was eliminating possibilities.”

“What possibilities? Mom and I told you what happened, why can’t you leave it alone?”

Between him and Bobby. This was the sort of thing Mom and Dad would do, dig and dig. Since when did Dale care so much? Was he making up for lost time? And how could he ask something so awful?

He flinched and frowned, then nodded, but it was plain as day that this wasn’t the end of it. His hand on her shoulder was the last thing she needed right now, but it was staying there. He lowered his head and tried to smile at her, “I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

Leland appeared behind them. “What’s going on, you two?” Dale removed his hand.

“Nothing, just the standard teenage drama,” he said.

“Aaah, boys I suppose?” Leland said, impishly.

“Uh, yes, no worries about it though.” Dale acted oddly guarded.

“Well, why not tell me about it then? If it’s not a worry? Or maybe I could help.”

Laura bemoaned, “I don’t want to talk about it, Dad.”

Out of nowhere, in the middle of Leland’s pleasant tone was a sharp sound of dejected criticism. “But you’ll gladly talk about it to your brother, won’t you? Why keep secrets from your old man?” Dale and Laura were both taken aback.

“Dad,” Dale leaned in, “I’ve got it covered.”

Leland’s entire face fell into contempt, and his voice turned gravely. “Have you?” He moved like he didn’t quite know what to do with his body. He raised his hand and accusingly pointed at the both of them. “I do not appreciate secret-keeping in this house.”

“We are not keeping secrets.”

He threw out his arms. “Then what’s the issue?” Everything about him translated hurt and betrayal. He shook his head, put his hands on his hips, paced directly in their path, and kept glancing up for a sign that either of them would start an apology.

Dale went to work on it, “Laura’s just not comfortable with it. And given my…” he paused, “current situation with Annie, she felt it was best to tell me to avoid being embarrassed.”

Then Leland stopped. His eyes moved to Laura, standing still and quiet against the door. “Honey,” he said sweetly, “are you embarrassed by us?”

She was completely unsure of what to say except, “Kind of.”

And Leland laughed from the gut, “That’s normal then! Your mother and I are _very_ embarrassing, even when we don’t mean to be, that’s just part of growing up! My father would send me shrinking into my seat. And Dale, do you remember how red you were when your mom dropped you off at Homecoming?”

“Of course I do, Dad.”

“Right!” Behind him, he caught Sarah walking into the kitchen and asked her, “Sarah! Dear,” eagerly, “do you remember Dale’s face at Homecoming when you-”

“Dropped him off? Yes, he was redder than a cherry.” 

“You see, Laura? I don’t mean to be this way, I only want to help you and understand you.” He practically ran to her when he said this and grabbed her shoulders, the corners of his mouth reaching his ears. Laura agreeably nodded. 

The family gathered at the table and they each mindfully filled their plates with chicken pasta salad and bread. Mom shared a story about a neighbor and Dad talked about Ben’s new watch and the band he hired for the party this coming Friday. Laura suddenly remembered the letter her classmate gave her and, after asking to be excused, brought it out to Dale. The paper was bordered with pink and white stripes and dotted with stickers. His face went through rounds of amusement and delighted perplexity while Laura retreated into her own body. “Your classmates have a way with words.” He said, bashfully.

“Secret admirers?” Sarah poked, “You’re stiiiill Mister Popular!”

He snickered and handed the letter back to Laura. For a few minutes, the table was silent except for the sounds of their eating. And then Leland, enunciating but not looking away from his plate, said, “Sarah, how do you feel about secret-keeping?” Everyone paused.

She turned to him. “Pardon?”

“Secrets? Did you and Beth keep secrets from your mother and father?”

“No.”

“So you did not keep secrets?” Animosity bubbled at the back of his throat. He was looking right at Sarah, but if he had eyes on the side and back of his head, they were staring right through Dale and Laura.

“No, we had no reason to.” She affirmed.

“Incredible.” He tore the food off his fork with his teeth, “And what of secrets about boys?”

“Boys?” She hesitated, “Boyfriends?” Afraid to ask what this sudden tangent was about. Laura dropped her fork. Bobby was not her boyfriend. Whatever thoughts and feelings she may have weren’t cemented, but it was as if Leland were peering into her head.

“Why not?” He said.

Sarah thought hard and glanced Laura’s way. “I think, in this developing period, that this sort of thing should be kept private.”

“Between the boy and the girl.”

“Yes.”

Laura shoved the idea of Bobby away. Right now she was a glass house. Dale sat eerily still.

“You believe a girl should keep her lover hidden from their parents?”

“Lovers?” Dale interjected. Leland’s head spun to _him_ now.

“Yes, lovers.” He punctuated.

 _Lovers._ All they did was hold hands. But Laura admitted to herself that she yearned for it again, that feeling. The other boys didn't count, they _couldn't,_ she barely paid them any mind.

“That’s an interesting thing to call them. Perhaps they're just friends.”

“And what if they’re not. How would you know?”

“It’s a thought.”

Leland analyzed Dale across the table, as if combing through every girl he had his eyes on in his teenage years. At the first sight of a finished plate, Sarah jumped up and gathered it, then one at a time, the others finished too. While Sarah organized the kitchen, Leland grabbed the hands of his children. His features loosened and he put the animosity away.

“Now, I didn’t want to snap like that. I am just… looking for honesty here.” He went from Laura to Dale, stroking their hands with his thumbs, “This behavior can be very damaging. To all of us. I mean you see how your mother can be under pressure. She bends like a twig! She and I have been put through enough as it is.” He said this while glaring at Dale. “And Laura, these aren’t good habits to develop. Have we all not all been honest with _you_?

She hoped that was a rhetorical question.

“Please, let's all be upfront with each other.”

“Okay.” Dale and Laura said in unison.

“Good. Now Laura, go help your mother with the dishes.”

T.J. Hooker on TV. Leland found a stopping point in his work and joined his family. Dale managed to sit upright on the left end of the couch and Laura sitting on the right with Leland in the middle and Sarah in the armchair. Jupiter curled up in the dining room on one of the warmed-up seat cushions. They watched the cops meander through the investigation and the trial, where absolutely none of the drama would play out in real life, but makes fine television nonetheless.

All the lights were turned down, so the blue-green glow of the screen highlighted each surface and passed through Sarah’s cigarette smoke. The sight of the three of them sharing the couch sent her reminiscing, listing off details of old times in a trance, unaware that the others could hear her, “Your little cap gun and holster,” she said, “and your tennis shoes. You tripped on the stairs and I couldn’t carry you because you were too big.”

Dale perked up and called out, “Mom?”

“But so little.”

“Mom?”

Sarah’s eyes flared open and she rested her head on her hand, then resumed, “I wish we got you when you were a baby. So I could have carried you around.”

“You can still give it a shot. But I think it’ll only work once.”

Their eyes locked and squinted in laughter. Leland stayed fixed on the screen, but Laura followed Sarah and Dale’s admiring gaze, telepathically sharing a fun memory like when they’d gossip about Mrs. Terry Stack and Mrs. Lovat, and celebrated with home-made Shirley Temples when Mr. Lovat was chased out of the house with a slim blonde and left with her for San Francisco. It was something Laura struggled to grasp. The two had a way of hearing each other that, purportedly, most mothers and sons do. Apparently it’s supposed to work for the other half. Donna joked that she and her mother rarely see eye to eye, but her father bends over backwards at every opportunity for his little girl. Leland was a different story. 

Everyone’s parents are different because they are people too, hard to believe, and people are fundamentally different from one another. It is meant to be one of the great wonders of humanity, it’s persisting diversity. Where Dr. Hayward would have a hug always ready at the request, Dad was more stringent and specific. Where Dr. Hayward praised his wife, Dad would judge. Where Dr. Hayward was close, Dad was distant. Where Dr. Hayward was _distant_ , Dad was _close_. One wonders if their professions played some part in it, being a doctor required a heart on the sleeve while lawyers demanded it in a briefcase. Whatever it was, whenever at the Haywards', Laura breathed easier. It took her awhile to figure out why, but the simple fact was Will laughed when things were funny, sulked when things were sad, and grumbled when things were difficult. There was hardly any such order for Laura’s own father. 

Sarah began talking again, louder and actually conversing. She and Dale exchanged disjointed thoughts and sayings about something to do with trees. Leland, irritated, redirected his attention and suggested that Sarah be heading to bed.

“It’s only eight. Don’t get your shorts in a twist.”

Dale chuckled and Leland and ruffled his hair, then said, humorously, “There’s an attitude problem in this house. I swear.”

“Where do you think we get it from?” Dale said.

“Oooh? A wise guy? Tell you what, had it not been for that,” he pointed to Dale’s stomach, “we’d be going a couple rounds right now.”

“That’s awfully bold of you, Dad.” He raised his fists and mockingly jabbed outward. Leland copied him and they narrated their own boxing match.

“Big Palmer goes for the uppercut! The Younger Palmer goes down in a heap!”

“But, what’s this? He gets right back up and clocks him good!”

Laura leaned over Leland’s lap to comment, “He goes for the chair!”

“That’s right,” Dale agrees, “he goes for the chair and SMASH!”

“His head splits open!” She cheered.

“I don’t know about that, but he wins!”

Sarah kicked her legs up and Dale pumped his fists, they hooted and hollered for the imaginary victory, but turned away from them, Leland hastily pushed Laura off his lap and flashed angrily at her, then he leaned over and whispered into her ear, “Not now.” Her excitement vanished.

After the energy died down, Laura told her parents, “I think I’m gonna take up the Hornes’ offer. To read to Johnny.”

“Oh, that’d be fantastic! I’ll tell Ben tomorrow.”

“They’ll appreciate that so much.”

“Did they say to read anything specific?” Dale asked.

Leland answered, “No, I think Johnny will enjoy anything.”

“You should bring something you liked growing up, like, um…”

“Matilda. You loved Matilda.” Sarah added.

“Yeah," Dale said, "I think I remember reading that one to you, actually.”

It was true, that was her favorite book to read and especially be read to. Mom was too subdued in her performances, Dad too hammy, but Dale was just right. The episode ended and none of them could properly discuss what happened. Sarah gave Dale his medication and checked his bandages. The wound was healing up nicely. She helped him upstairs and into bed and Laura heard through the stairwell a sweet exchange of words.

“Goodnight, darling.”

“‘Night, mom.” Then Sarah went into her room to get dressed for bed.

“You should be getting upstairs soon, too.” Leland said to Laura.

“I know, I know.”

His arm fell over her and pulled her into his side. “Look, I don’t like yelling at you and your brother, but-”

“I get it, Dad.”

“No, I- let me finish - I’m concerned. For _you_." Under his arm, he looked fifty feet tall and made of stone. His eyes, sincere, but authoritative. "It’s a delicate time, I realize, but as a growing woman, you will be experiencing changes. Have you?”

“Like?”

“Well, masturbatory-”

“Dad,” she recoiled, “I don’t want to tell you _that_.”

“My father and I discussed it at your age,” he justified himself, “I was active. _Have_ you been looking at boys differently?”

Laura pushed against his arm and into the corner of the couch. “I feel Mom should be asking this.”

Crestfallen, Leland asked, “Would you be more comfortable with your mother? I’m not hurt by this, I’m only… doing what I can as a father.”

Guiltily, she said, “I guess I am.”

“I see.” So he continued, “Which boys? Have they said anything or done anything?”

 _Bobby’s hand, the men in the Roadhouse…_ “No.”

“Really?” He said, with a hint of disbelieving surprise.

“Yes,” and she asked him, in an attempt to turn the subject away from her, “Did you and Dale used to talk about this stuff?”

“Pardon?”

“Well, you said you and your dad, so, I figured you and Dale-”

Leland immediately cut her off. “Why are you so focused on your brother? You know, he has his own life and concerns.”

“... Sorry.”

“And you two sure do love to hide away in your own little world. Together.” Something was very off in his voice. A mix of jealousy and disgust that Laura couldn’t detect the reasoning behind. As much as she didn't want Dale to worry about her, it wasn’t her fault she typically chose to confide in Dale more than Mom or Dad, was it? Don’t all siblings do this? Maybe ones closer in age, like Donna, who talks to her sisters constantly. Then again, they’re all girls. Does Audrey and her brother have discussions about love and boys? 

Her door was locked, this time without a doubt. She checked, unlocked it, and locked it again, pressed it hard into the knob, stood back and wrote it down in her head. It pained her to pick Jupiter off her bed and out in the hall, but it was better than keeping him away from his litter box. The window was bothering her, so she decided to sit by it on top of her toy chest. She turned off her lamp to see outside better and gaze over the empty streets. The leaves and trunks caught yellow lamp light while the tree tops blended into the night sky. Down below the window sill was the trestle that climbed up the side of the house. Roses used to scrape the latticed wood with their thorns and bloom gorgeous blossoms in the spring. She could lift the glass and carefully pluck a bright pink one and wear it behind her ear, like a princess. Mom would go out, basket in hand, and cut bunches of roses, then hang them to dry away from the sun so they retained their lush color. The house smelled endlessly of pout potpourri and flowers through the seasons. Then, an invasive plant came and killed the climbing roses. The smaller bushes still grew down in the flower bed, but they were never as numerous again, and the strange vine, some sort of non-poisonous ivy, took its place on the trestle. Dad promised Mom he’d call a landscaper, but never got around to it. 

Laura looked out to the drive through, where sat the family car and Dad's convertible. The Roadhouse wouldn’t be very busy on a Tuesday night. For some those nights are the best, but Laura liked them crowded. The more people, the more noise to block everything out and everyone looking at someone else but you. If she had her license she’d make a quick stop instead of planning ahead to walk all the way there, talk to some strangers, snag a kiss and disappear, refreshed and aglow with adrenaline. She enjoyed that way more than Max, Sean, and Brian, who get boring after they exhaust their go-to options of “let’s dance and drink.” Laura wondered if any of them had ever been with a woman before she picked them out. A _woman-_ woman. They’d disappoint her, she bets. And Bobby too, who plays tough but melts at the first sight of trouble. _At least he’s cuter,_ she thought. 

And then her mind wandered to Dale, who attracted all sorts of girls in high school. Every week it was “Lola Shipman” this, and then “Blair Jones” that. But none of them stuck like Annie Blackburn did. It disturbed her to consider, but Dale had plenty of experience in the area of romance and likely tons of advice. He wouldn’t mind, he usually doesn’t with other subjects, like jobs and school. If she asked sincerely enough, he might hopefully skip the teasing and not think low of her for these feelings.

A large horned owl swooped past the window. In the dark, heading to the family car was a stumbling figure she could tell was Dale. He slid into the driver's seat, backed out, and drove in the direction of the neighborhood exit. 

Laura was glued to the window, then she snapped and looked back at the door. Building up courage, she tread across the landing to the guest room and turned the knob. The bed was empty. She had no idea what to think, but her heart rate jumped, and on light feet raced back behind her own door. _Secrets, even he was keeping secrets!_ She caught herself nearly forgetting the lock and mashed the button in. 

Her window. She flipped the lever. Locked too. The dark weighed a million pounds so the lamp light chased it away. Laura was infuriatingly helpless. Dale went out. Why? Did he leave before? Was he coming back? These questions fled over her as she walked the length of her bedroom, pain rising up in her groin, wall to wall, faster and faster. _He’s lying too._

She caught her breath and laid down on the carpeted floor. Surely, she had to be overreacting. This was an emergency run for something and Dale was the kind of person to be too polite to wake up Mom or Dad for assistance. _He’ll be back in no time, just you watch._


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Laura wakes up to an unpleasant surprise. She and Dale have a tense discussion. The owls gather outside the Palmer house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for anyone that needs it: There is a detailed description of a tampon being inserted.

Piece by blurry piece, the upside down bedroom came into focus and with it, a disturbing moist sensation down in Laura’s underwear. Peeling herself off the floor proved a difficult task because she apparently hadn’t moved a muscle all night and her joints stuck in awkward positions. Worse yet, the Tylenol fully wore off and she could hardly stand the throbbing any longer. Pulling her head up off first, she bent her arms and pushed up, then dragged the rest forward a tad. Sitting down with her legs out revealed the precisely suspected ugly red stain blotching her nightgown. Her mother will throw a fit. Her  _ father  _ will throw a fit.

Laura caught, suddenly standing in the doorway, Sarah distressingly bouncing in place. She sat up with her legs to her chest, but it looked like Sarah couldn’t care to notice such a minor thing. “Your brother’s stitches almost came undone.” Thankfully, it was not bad enough to warrant an ambulance, and Will Hayward wasn’t on call at the ER that night.

Dr. Will made the last adjustments to Dale’s stitches on the couch. Leland sat beside him, Sarah standing by, and Laura up on the stairs watching through the bars.  _ He came back after all. _

“They must have loosened while you were asleep,” said Will.

Sarah agreed, “He does move around a lot when he sleeps.”

Leland fidgeted angrily, then stood up, “How much longer now until he fully heals?”

“This may have set him back another two weeks. Can’t be entirely sure. He only got out of the hospital around two days ago.”

“Wonderful.” He checked his watch and shoved his hands into his pockets. While Leland had his back turned Will looked at Dale and shook his head. 

“I’ll prescribe some antibiotics to keep away infection and some muscle relaxers for the tossing and turning.” He patted Dale’s shoulder and shot a kind smile and a wink at Laura before leaving. “Take care, and let me know if you need anything else.”

Leland sighed, “I would have hoped he’d have grown out of that habit.”

“Well, it’s not as if he has a ton of control over it.”

“Now I’ll have to make another stop at the pharmacy.” He shuffled off into the kitchen and Sarah followed to calm him down. Before Dale could take a glance at the staircase, Laura made a break for a change of clothes and the bathroom. Some pads and tampons should be underneath the sink, but to her aggravation, she could not find any. She clumsily bundled up a large wad of toilet paper and stuffed it into the clean underwear, and went for Sarah and Leland’s bedroom. A small, pink, opened box of tampons hid in the back corner of their bathroom cabinet. She took three, enough to not stir suspicion, plus some more Tylenol.

Laura had only used tampons twice in her life, otherwise she always used pads. It seemed so immature, even Donna used tampons, but she couldn’t get over the distressing awareness of having one inside. The feeling of it being there while out in public, or with friends or family. What if she couldn’t get it out? What if it  _ hurt?  _ And if she wanted to use it she might have to force it, which is exactly what she found as she blindly placed the applicator into position and it refused to budge. The sex ed teachers suggested using a mirror if needed, so she placed a handheld one down on the floor beneath her, put a leg on the toilet seat, and held her dress up with her chin so she could see. Though Laura had felt down there many times in the privacy of her own room, actually seeing it gave a different impression, with its raw folds of flesh, the small knob she knew to be her clitoris, and her vagina, dripping dark red droplets onto the tiles. With one hand she separated the labias and positioned the applicator with the other. Taking a few preparatory breathes, she pushed the applicator past the labias and into the vagina, grinding her jaw through the stinging. It was horrendous, and it felt so wrong. Fearing it was sitting incorrectly, she reached in to readjust it, but the bursting swell of fire brought a stream of tears down her face. Then collapsed into a heap, balled up. 

Slow handicapped footsteps climbed the stairs.  _ Don’t let it be Dad.  _ For better or for worse, it wasn't. It was Dale. He knocked and asked kindly, “Laura, are you in there?” Trying to sound composed, she answered, “mm hmm,” and then chucked a shampoo bottle at the door once he left. 

The spectacular nerve on him to leave in the middle of the night, no warning, with an injury, and return like nothing happened. And to do  _ what?  _ He wasn’t on patrol. Confusing, however, was how he managed to drive heavily medicated. Those drugs were drowsy, fast-acting pain killers, unless he powered through or he somehow never took them to begin with. She went through the same motions as she did in her bedroom. Now fully dressed, she stumbled into her room, hid her nightgown in her pillowcase, and stared down her lock with pure disdain. Broken. No other explanation. She turned the knob furiously and looked back and forth at both ends - the outside knob had a small hole which you could unlock the door with in an emergency by sticking in a thin metal key. That won’t be any fun to ask her parents to fix. The window was locked though, like she left it. At least one thing was consistent.

Dale’s open door showed his bed stripped down to the mattress. On the floor laid a pile of the formerly pure white and beige sheets, stained with small amounts of pink and red. She wanted to vomit. It was no more blood than she had, but the very fact that it wasn’t supposed to be there at all made her nauseous. She pictured the scene, the flash of realization before Dale called in Mom - no, he wouldn’t call her - he got up out of bed and woke them up. At first they’re annoyed, then terrified. And Laura didn’t hear any of it. It might have been best to leave the door open… 

An idea hit. She pulled the nightgown from the pillowcase, buried it under the bed sheets, and rubbed the dried and wet blood together. Then she grabbed her hamper and tossed the dirty clothes, the sheets, and the nightgown in the same basket.  _ Mom will definitely yell at me for this.  _ But it was a small price to pay to avert the other shame.

Downstairs, Leland passed Dale a glass of water and orange juice, and asked him if he could get him anything else before he left. “I’m fine, Dad.” He hesitantly took the glasses and put them on the coffee table. Leland watched him for a couple seconds, then left to gather his things.

Laura came down with the basket and entered the laundry room. As predicted, Sarah reprimanded her. “What is this?”

“Laundry.”

“Don’t get smart, You just threw everything together and now it’s all stained! And your poor pajamas. Jesus, Laura!”

“Need help?” Dale asked from a far.

“No, you stay put, your sister’s screwed up the load,” She whipped socks into the wash when Dale came in and nudged her aside. “What did I just say?!” 

“You can use hydrogen peroxide for some of these, but you might as well throw the sheets away.”

“Do not tell me how to remove stains.” She smacked his shoulder, then grabbed his arm to lead him back to the living room.

“You’re right, it is ruined.” He held up the dress. Laura threw him a sour glare and ripped it out of his hands.

“Don’t go through my goddamn stuff.” 

“Laura!” Sarah shouted, “What has gotten into you?”

_ Ask him,  _ she wanted to say. Dale didn’t seem very upset, more surprised and kind of amused at her choice of words. She stood there, holding her frown and her breath, and thought about cursing at him again just to see what he would do. Sarah let go of Dale and pushed Laura into a kitchen chair to make her eat her breakfast alone.

Laura had the constant feeling of Dale watching her through the wall. She heard Dad argue with him, “Dale, you haven’t touched your drinks.”

“What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean, you aren’t drinking.”

“You need to drink, dear.” Sarah added.

“I am! Does everything I do have to be under constant surveillance?” He complained. 

Leland must have been in a hurry to get to work, because all he said was, “ _ drink. _ ” 

Sarah backed him up, “Act your age and take a damn swig,” and he did while hiding a queasy and unhappy expression. Laura leaned her head back to look through the doorway and smirked.

“That was not hard.” And Leland walked out to his car.

Sarah mumbled under her breath, “No one in this house knows how to behave.”

The day was mercifully short. No sight of Bobby, two substitute teachers, and she had finally cooled down now that the Tylenol took effect and made her forget all about the tampon. After their last class, Laura and Donna decided to take a different route home. They passed the street that leads downtown and to the Double R.  _ It might not be a bad idea to stop in _ , Laura thought, wondering about Shelly again, but she kept walking and asked Donna to come back to the house with her to work on their homework together. “That’s new,” Donna said, “ _ I’m _ the one to always suggest that. Are you stumped?”

Laura replied, “I think I’m having an off day.”

She began taking her things upstairs, but Donna habitually took off her shoes at the welcome mat and sat her backpack down by the recliner. She sighed and plopped on the floor by the couch. Dale greeted her, “Evening, Donna!” 

“Helloooo!” She hopped over to him. “Can I see?”

“What?”

“The… y’know?”

“Oh,” he rolled over slightly and lifted up his shirt. “Nasty, huh?”

“Wow! Oh- I mean-” she backtracked.

He snickered, “You’re fine, you’re fine it does make for a good story. Your father did a great job patching me up.”

Laura tiresomely acknowledged Dale and the smile he gave her. The small pricks of blood peaking through the gauze were much brighter than her rusty brown blood on her dress. She cautiously asked, “Can you tell it again?”

“I already told you.”

“You gave me the Cliff’s notes,” she rolled her eyes. 

“Alright,” he sat up, to the best of his ability, “dark. Pitch black. Around ten o’clock at night.”

“Duh.”

“Zip it,” he went on, “Moon fuller and whiter than a cup of warm milk.”

“It was waning.”

“What did I say?” and flicked her head, “We received an anonymous tip at the station revealing agents of a long-hunted trafficking circle that, quite possibly, runs right through our very own little town of Twin Peaks.” His voice got low and ominous. Donna’s eyes grew wide, while Laura simply enjoyed watching him get theatric. “I was filling out forms for speeding tickets when Harry - that’s Sheriff Harry Truman to you ladies - stepped into my office. He told me, ‘Hey, rookie, why don’t you take this one with Andy?’ This would be the first time I’d see any action in the field.”

“Real action.” Donna breathed out.

“Yes, Donna. Real action. Contrary to popular belief, police work is typically very dull, especially in Twin Peaks. I had to prepare myself for this. Keep my wits about me.” Then he put on a whisper, “We parked a discrete distance from the given location and flanked either side of the clearing. No one in sight. Andy and I had out our sidearms, trusty little .357 Smith & Wesson 28 six-shot revolvers.” He joined his hands and stuck out the index fingers to make a gun shape. “Clunky, but effective stopping power, so no complaints. Although we were promised upgrades to semi-autos sometime in the summer along with the rest of the state. We wait and wait. About a quarter past eleven - that’s twenty-three hundred and fifteen, we use military time - we hear a truck drive up the pass. And then, out of the blue… BANG!” He shouted and jolted his “gun,” making Donna and Laura flinch, “Comes a loud shot of a third revolver from up the hill. I think at first it’s Andy, but he was at my three o’clock - uh, to my right - and the shot came directly from my twelve - straight ahead. There are several more shots spread out unevenly, some of them from Andy. A group of men make a break for a dear trail in the brush. I can barely make out a large lumbering figure, the moon glistening on the barrel of the weapon he had just wounded me with. Andy calls for back up while I assess my injury. Right under the rib cage. Blood, all over my palm.” 

He stretched out his hand and ran a finger along it with dramatic flair. Donna grimaced and shivered. Laura stared blankly. “Andy ran to my side. In a weird twist, I had to calm _ him  _ down. Next thing I knew, I was fading in and out on a surgery table.” He almost sounded proud, though it was most certainly for show. It’s easy to laugh about such a thing when you know it turned out fine. Laura, Mom, and Dad all arrived shortly after to see him alive and conscious. But while he was hiding in the mountains, Laura was with Bobby and those boys, and who knows, maybe not too far from him. 

Then it dawned on her. Leo Johnson at the Roadhouse. 

“That’s amazing!” Donna said in awe, “Not that you got shot, but you had a shoot-out! Like Clint Eastwood!”

“Yes, Donna. Just like Clint Eastwood.”

While Donna’s face lit up, Laura’s drained of color, “Dale,” she whispered, “ _were_ you scared?”

“I was not scared. I told you.”

“I would have been scared!” Donna blurted out. “Did you see a light?” Her curiosity took over completely before the thought occurred if that were an appropriate question to ask, but Dale, happily unfazed, answered her, “No light, no pearly gates. I don’t believe I was far gone enough to see any visions.”

As glad as she was that Dale wasn’t moping about it, his nonchalant attitude rubbed Laura the wrong way. Calm and level-headed, not even the tiniest hint of worry that he nearly died and everything he’d leave behind.  _ Why does he have to be like this, _ Laura thinks to herself, going through all her past memories of forced smiles and “I’m fine’s.” And bad dreams.

“Okay, don’t tell that story again,” she said.

“Sure thing.” Dale brushed a strand of hair out of her face.

Donna left with a somewhat lengthy “thank you” note Dale wrote for Eileen and Will, and barely finished homework. It was impossible for Laura to focus. After Donna left, she retreated to her room, trying to clear her head by going through her toy chest for her copy of Matilda. _ Leo Johnson. They are looking for Leo Johnson.  _ She could tell him everything, but of course, what else would her brother ask first but, “Why were you at the Roadhouse?” There were so many old, forgotten toys and books hiding in here. Her diary, which she hasn’t touched in months, Flowers in the Attic, a horrible book her eighth grade English teacher forced them to read, baby picture albums, dominoes, decks of cards, and so on. Dale startled Laura when he knocked and the door swung open.

She shouted at him, “God, do you even want to get better?”

“I’m allowed to move,” he said, examining the door, “Is this broken?

“If you really want to get out of this house ASAP, you’d try harder. And yes.”

He made a face and pinched her nose. “You are far too young to be acting like Grandma Dot.” 

Laura gagged at the memory of that old woman, now spending her days in a jar at Aunt Beth’s house. But still serious, she tried to shew Dale off. Regardless, he stayed.

“Television is doing nothing for my stimulation and the boredom is killing me slowly. Let’s play a board game.”

“I don’t want to.”

“A card game.”

“... Maybe.”

“War?”

War was a favorite of theirs. Why not? Typically a two-player game, both players receive twenty-six cards, half of a fifty-two card deck, evenly shuffled. Both players draw a card, turn it face up at the same time and whichever has the highest “rank” takes both cards and places them at the bottom of their deck, face down. If both cards have the same rank, then the players declare “war.” They both draw three cards face down on top of the card that initiated the war, and one final face-up card. Whoever outranks the other wins both sets. Card rankings go like this: number cards naturally outrank based on which is greater, Jacks outrank numbers, Queens outrank Jacks, Kings outrank Queens, and Aces outrank all of the above. Jokers are often discarded and suits do not play a part. The game goes on until one player wins all of the cards. 

Neither Laura nor Dale have ever been able to actually win War, which, by nature of the game’s designs, could plausibly go on infinitely. A game usually ends when they’re both tired and annoyed and decide the winner by way of rock-paper-scissors. But while it grew old through longevity, it never failed to deliver on twists and turns. Whenever War was declared, and they flipped their final card, they’d both equal rank and War would turn into double War, then triple. And just as one of them managed to get all but two or three cards, the pendulum swings back in the other direction. Dale called it a strange cosmic trick indicating their stagnant mindsets. In actuality, he would always let the then-five-year-old Laura shuffle, whose method ranged from “mix up the bottom and top cards and leave it as is,” or “put the middle of the deck on the top and call it a day.” 

This time around she knew how to cut and bridge a deck, then split it, and laid them face down. They both drew their first cards. Laura - seven of hearts, Dale - two of clubs. She took the two to her side and they laid down their next cards. Whatever indulges him and gets her mind off of things.

“You talk to Bobby today?” Dale asked. 

Laura mumbled, “You obsessed or what?”

“Did you?”

“No.”

“Okay,” he mouthed.

Three of clubs - ace of clubs, king of clubs - five of hearts, king of spades - seven of diamonds, ten of diamonds - two of spades. Dale bit his lip and grunted, “What is with my luck right now?”

“It left you because you suck.”

“Is it,” ace of hearts - five of spades, “something in the water?” He said, somewhat tongue-in-cheek.

“I see you cheat at poker nights.”

“How do you even know what cheating at poker looks like? You’ve never played me.”

Laura perked up and said with a smile, “I know I could kick your ass.”

Six of clubs - six of hearts. “Hah!” They furiously drew three face down cards and readied themselves to reveal the top one. They locked eyes, “On three?” but Laura flipped hers anyway and excitedly pumped her fists. Three of hearts - two of hearts.

“A one difference.” Dale grumbled while Laura blew a raspberry at him. Either of their decks grew and shrank. Wars doubled, then tripled, and one instance, quadrupled. Laura hit a fantastic streak with three aces in a row, before she had to surrender them to Dale in a very-nearly quintuple war. They talked and talked, or trash talked, and Dale’s voice grew sore. Just as Laura slammed down another winning card, he jumped to his feet and ran to the bathroom sink. She stopped laughing from her recent victory and heard him erratically gargle water, then gag. She ran out of the room and found him with his head in the toilet bowl. “Do I need to call an ambulance?”

“My throat is sore.”

Laura tried to keep herself from panicking as she recalled the last times he complained about a sore throat, and then asked, “Have you been drinking water?”

Dale, half relieved and half embarrassed, shook his head, then opened his mouth wide under the running sink. Laura couldn’t help a laugh while Dale gulped up cold water and got a large wet spot on his t-shirt. He snorted and turned to grab a towel. 

Then he stopped suddenly in the window. “Laura,” he said sternly, “come look.”

Outside perched one by one across the telephone wire were large horned owls, all staring at precisely the same spot, the bathroom window. 

“Isn’t that weird?” He said in a shaken, but fascinated voice. Laura watched him attempt to replace unparalleled dread with intrigue. She tried to guide him away from the window. “I’ve never seen so many in one place before…”

Owls. They’d seen them gather outside before, but not lined up like that. They were big enough to carry a racoon away, definitely, and the horror struck that Laura hadn’t seen Jupiter all day. “Have you seen Jupiter lately? I think… last I remember he was in the kitchen.”

“He’s somewhere,” his eyes kept on the owls, “Or Mom probably let him out.” With that, they hurried out to the backyard, Dale taking a flashlight because the sun had set while they were playing, and holding his bandages tightly. Leaves and grass soaked in water left over from the sprinkles reflected the street lamp light, and as they shook in the wind, flickered on and off, making them look like rapidly blinking eyes in the pitch night. They called out Jupiter’s name and shook his treat box. Laura really began to panic when he didn’t immediately come out from hiding, she was unable to stop herself from coming up with awful scenarios. Snatched by an owl, lost in the neighborhood, lost in the mountains, hit by a car, eaten by a wolf. Jupiter was never the kind of cat to stray very far, but stranger things have happened.

They rounded the house and checked under the cars and their wheel wells, remembering tragic stories of outdoor cats taking naps in there and then being unexpectedly crushed the next morning. Then in the bushes, under the back porch, and around again. “We may have to go up and down the block,” Dale nervously suggested, likely thinking about how many more owls they’d see along the way. They arrived at the flowerbed. A smart cat like Jupiter wouldn’t hide in a thorny place, but it wouldn’t hurt to be sure. The rose vines darted up in attempts to start new vines and climb the house. The other vine plant growing snug between the rose bushes twisted around the trestle and led up to Laura’s window, bright yellow from the lamp she left on.

Dale paused below it and watched it carefully. “Does it still give you nightmares?”

“Yes.” Laura said.

Dale shook his head. “He isn’t real.”

He was so certain of that statement, but Laura plainly recalled a teenage Dale, old enough to think rationally about imaginary friends, if they could call _him_ that, concocting locks and traps in their rooms to keep him out, until one nearly broke Dad’s nose and he put an end to the whole charade. He didn’t have a trestle below his window, but his door had problems shutting sometimes.

The fun of the card game wore off the moment Laura realized Jupiter was gone, and now frustration replaced it.“Where did you go last night?”

“Pardon?”

“Where did you go?”

Dale looked confused. Laura scowled at him and thought about kicking his knee. “I saw you leave from my window. Where did you go?”

He half-laughed to deny her, “Laura. You know I wouldn’t be able to drive like this.”

There came a crawl space under the house that Dale crouched down to shine the light in. Normally all they’d find was lizards and rats, but, “There he is!” He reached his arm in and pulled out the struggling cat.

“Jupiter!” Laura cried, “There you are, silly boy!” Just as quickly as she hugged him, Jupiter squirmed out of her arms. “Whoah, what’s wrong buddy?”

“Something scared him.”

“Those owls…” They met their eyes, still sitting patiently, and they could have sworn there were more this time. Laura gave Jupiter a couple friendly scratches behind the ears and under the chin, then scooped him once he relaxed. The birds' gazes beat down, so Dale quickly moved to the backyard with Laura behind him. A gust of wind swept over the trees and stirred the stagnant summer air with the Douglas pine scent. Every star imaginable popped out of the blue-black ether. Dale breathed it in. “Do you feel that, Laura? The movement? Everywhere, not just the wind, but the universe itself. Greek philosophers used to believe that Earth maintained a central point within a layered gyroscope of astral and terrestrial planes.” Laura tuned him out, but she held Jupiter close and swayed in the breeze. “While such a model is no longer relevant, the concept remains of interest. Personally, I don’t enjoy the thought of the planet staying still, because it doesn’t. We’re flying - hurtling - hundreds of millions of miles per minute through an endless void.” He lied down in the wet grass with an extremely content expression. Laura had no initial interest, but seeing him appear so cozy convinced her to at least sit. Jupiter curled up in her lap and Dale reached out to stroke his small, fluffy head. It did feel very soothing, Laura had to admit, though Dale’s relaxed face had her thinking a few times that he fell asleep. He didn’t, otherwise she wasn’t going to try dragging him back inside.

The last time Laura took in the night atmosphere was in the school house, with Bobby… “Why did you and Annie break up?” Laura asked Dale, knowing she was treading on shaky ground.

His eyes snapped open and he sat up. She read his face, as if he didn’t understand the question. “I liked Annie, she seemed so sweet. You both,” his face hardened, “looked happy.”

He managed out, “I… can only explain it as an adult thing.”

“I’m fourteen, I can handle it.”

“No, you can’t. Because I do not want to talk about this. Why don’t you talk to me?”

“About?”

“Bobby. Are you two together? Is that why you’ve been acting this way?”

She grimaced, “We’re not together. I fucking-”

“Laura.”

“I hate him! I mean, we’re friends, but I hate him. I don’t know. I just thought about you and Annie.”

Dale gaped at her and his voice got very low. “Annie and I do not hate each other. We had a fight, we’d been fighting for a while before that. And then we both mutually decided enough was enough.”

Laura shrunk. “Is that it?”

“Yes.”

But still curious. “Can I ask something else about you two?”

He sighed, “Go on.”

Laura suddenly couldn’t think of a single question. And then she thought of every question that she could not ask her brother, yet, she desired answers for.  _ What did you fight about?  _ If not to feel less isolated in her head.  _ Was it hard to have sex with each other? Did you feel wrong about it? Did you think about other girls? Did you think about boys? Why did you pick Annie? Did you really love her or did you feel like you  _ _ had _ _ to love her? _

“How did you know you loved her?” Safer than the others, but Laura braced herself.

Dale pondered, and it seemed he came to a conclusion but he didn’t know how to word it. “I was afraid of telling her anything about me, because I thought she’d leave. Laura absorbed and processed that tiny hint. He then said, “Let’s head back inside before Mom starts shouting.”

They entered the dark kitchen, Jupiter making a break for his water bowl. Laura gave him a couple treats and Dale flicked on the light. Leland’s briefcase and portfolios were scattered haphazardly across the counter. The TV was off and no one sat in the recliner, so he and Sarah must have gone to bed early. Then Laura saw a dark shadow slowly pacing in the dining room. She froze up and screamed out Dale’s name, who sprinted over so fast Laura regretted screaming because that could not have been good for his stitches. It was Sarah, staring into space, her lips barely moving and forming incomprehensible words. Dale grabbed hold of her tight and looked deep into her eyes, “Mom?” No response. “Mom, it’s alright.” He pulled out a chair and gently sat her down. Both he and Laura getting beside her caught her attention and her eyes flared to life, “Oh, yes,” she stroked Dale’s cheek, “Where- where did you two go?”

“Outside. We went searching for Jupiter.”

“Please be careful!” Startling them with her urgent plea, Dale tried to calm her.

“Yes, Mom we were very careful.”

“Please, please be careful!” She kept talking as if they were still outside. And then a sad smile crossed her face, “I changed the sheets on your bed.”

“Thank you, Mom.” Dale said.

“Your father,” she turned to Laura and then back to Dale, “is upstairs.”

“Yes, we know.” He led her up to her room and returned to grab his medication. Laura watched him hold it in his throat and gulp it down with displeasure.

Every step up the staircase revived the disquiet of the tampon and her pelvis, learning about Leo Johnson, and thinking about whatever it is that Dale left to do in the middle of last night. Was he seeing people like Laura was? Will he leave again? The landing grew closer and closer. She knew what would happen when she shuts that door in futility.

“Will you… will you please stay in my room tonight?”

“Laura, I don’t know. I’d probably hog the blankets.”

“I’m serious! Please.” She grabbed his hand and Dale’s eyes turned remorseful. He pushed aside her hair and leaned in to whisper, “You know what Dad will say. Just put a chair against the door and keep the window locked.”

Laura sadly nodded, and separated from him, then did exactly as he suggested. The chair from her desk went under the knob and the window locked as always.

The next morning, Laura went to the bathroom first thing. No stains, thank god, but she had to stay on top of changing out the tampons, no matter how much she hated the ordeal. She opened the sink cabinet for the two she took, and found boxes of both tampons and pads. On the front was a sticky note that read, “I didn’t tell Mom or Dad.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Laura visits Johnny Horne. Later, she gets an offer from Brian and has a close encounter at the Roadhouse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Has a scene where the implied sexual abuse becomes slightly more explicit.

The Great Northern was a sprawling testament to Northwestern tourism, and without a doubt the most impressive part of Twin Peaks, in Laura’s own opinion. The entire building was laced, head to toe, in woodwork made to resemble Nordic churches and cabins, but with a modern flair. To compliment the Washington setting and make it undoubtedly American to foreign visitors were murals invoking the styles of local indigenous tribes, and colorful totem poles holding up the rafters. In the lobby hung large romantic oil paintings of cattle rustlers traversing canyons and valleys, and on nearly every side table, a delicately woodcut animal like an owl or a rabbit. 

The bellhop guided Laura to the private estate section of the property where the Hornes lived. It felt refreshing to get out of the house for reasons other than a quick escape. To help someone. Rather than parasitically sitting at home or around Donna.

Ben Horne adjusted his glasses and leaped from his leather cushion chair. “Laura!” He put his hands on her shoulders and smiled warmly, “I have to thank you so much for agreeing to do this. Johnny will love it!”

“You’re welcome, and I hope he will.”

“Johnny’s room is right up those stairs.” He pointed to the spiral staircase in the living room, past his office door.

Laura took in a quick note of the empty living room. Right beside it stood an open pair of double doors to the extravagant dining room, and then led to a hall with another staircase and doors. “Um, is Audrey around?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t count on it, Laura. I’m sorry to say, but she has an _annoying_ -” he loudly emphasized, as if hoping to be heard, “habit of vanishing on us.”

Toys and costumes filled the attic room. Johnny sat patiently on his bed, sheets printed with race car designs. He wore a chief headdress, but also an old western sheriff vest and boots. He waved at Laura and moved aside for her on his bed. Johnny Horne was twenty-three years old, just three years younger than Dale, yet while built like a well-fed man his age, his posture and child-like demeanor shrank him considerably. Laura hardly saw Johnny outside of the Great Northern or in it, like his sister. Ben and Sylvia’s explanation was that he’d make a mess at their breakfast meetings with the Palmers, so they had a nurse serve him his favorites. It wasn’t clear exactly what happened to make him like this, rumors say it was a childhood injury. Whatever it was, Johnny barely ever spoke a word.

Johnny’s face turned cherry-red with delight, his smile of something truly genuine and mystified that Laura could only guess that story time - not by a stranger, but by anyone - was rare. She opened Matilda to the first page and read aloud in her best narrator voice only to be interrupted by Johnny cheering. “Johnny, I’m only on the first page.” He put a finger to his lips and she restarted before making it to the second page, where he cheered again. Laura would just have to bear through it, but it brought her a lot of glee to see someone this happy over something so little. She had an hour with him, and she could already tell it’ll hurt to leave. Once she made it past the first two pages, Johnny became fully invested. His face melted with sadness when Laura described Matilda’s terrible, neglectful parents, who only watched television and never read, and roared with laughter when Matilda outsmarted them. Laura imagined being a preschooler again, laying in bed and listening to Dale or Mom read through the book over and over, just to get to the part where Matilda and Ms. Honey lived happily ever after together. Hopefully, Johnny will feel that same joy, too. 

When the hour passed, a nurse came upstairs with some medicine and Sylvia Horne behind her. Johnny whimpered goodbye and Sylvia thanked Laura for her time. “You’ll be coming back, won’t you?”

“Yes. Can I ask a question?”

“Go ahead.”

“Has anyone else ever read to him?”

“Dear,” she said softly, “my husband and I are always busy. His nurse reads to him, but new faces are a nice change-up.”

“What about Audrey?”

Sylvia exhaled, “Responsibility is not her strong-suit.”

Wherever Audrey was, it dawned on Laura why she wouldn’t want to be around her own house. Exiting through the lobby gave her a stressful thought: if this was how her own family talked about her behind her back. She decided to go to the Double R for something sweet. Some of Laura’s classmates chatting in a booth looked her way. “Hi, Norma,” Laura said. Norma’s face brightened and she leaned over the counter.

“Hello, Laura. How is your brother?”

“He’s doing better,” since she was here, she decided to mention Shelly, “Shelly told me-”

“Yes,” she pulled out a pen and notepad, “Do you remember my sister, Annie?” Laura nodded, “she left me a message a couple days back. I’d rather tell your brother myself. Does he have a number I can call him at?”

“I can give you the house number.”

“That’d be perfect.”

Laura gave her the number and she scribbled it down. “I called Annie when it happened. I thought she had the right to know.” The corners of her mouth lowered and she looked at the floor, “I… am glad your brother is alright.”

 _So this is why Shelly talked to me._ It was a good thing she didn’t put it off any longer. “Since you called Annie, could I get her number too? I think Dale would want to talk to her.”

Norma sucked in her breath and tried to be as gentle with her words as possible, “I don’t believe Annie would be comfortable with me doing that. She… very much wants to be alone right now.”

“I understand.” Laura recalled those girls in the bathroom days ago. _“Imagine being so screwed up that your girlfriend leaves you for a convent.”_

“Now,” she put the notepad in her apron pocket, “What can I get you?”

Laura requested, “A muffin, blueberry, and a chocolate shake to go.”

“On it,” she said with a grin, “Shelly! Did you unpack the ice cream like I asked?”

“Yes I did, Norma.” Shelly, dressed up in the standard Double R baby-blue uniform, loaded dishes from an empty table and into a tub. Her casual gleam disappeared upon seeing Laura at the bar top, and ran behind the kitchen door.

“Don’t mind her,” Norma reassured Laura, “she’s a bit of a wallflower. Hard to believe she has a boyfriend. I think she’s around your age.” The kids in the booth spoke louder and more excited.

“I know her from school.”

“Do you talk much?”

“She’s a year ahead of me, I think. I don’t see her around.” _Or Audrey, and come to think, Bobby’s been absent too. It’s like everyone is avoiding me._ Donna was all that came to mind when thinking about friends. It occurred to her just how small her circle was. 

“That’s a shame. I don’t want to interfere with you kids’ affairs, but I’d like to suggest she go out and meet people.”

“That sounds like something her mom would say rather than her boss.” Laura giggled.

Norma somberly nodded. She grabbed the blueberry muffin from the pastry case, and then went to work on the milkshake. Shelly came back with a customer’s order, glancing over her shoulder constantly. The three girls in Laura recognized from social studies and algebra, named Jessie, Chloe, and Patricia, whispered to one another. Patricia had her boyfriend Trevor on her arm. Biting back a, “if you have something to say, say it to my face,” Laura took the milkshake from Norma, quickly paid at the register, and headed to the door, Trevor shouting, “Tell Bobby we said hi!” as she went for the exit.

Her face burned. She kept her head down, knowing they were watching her from the window. Bobby must have blabbed about _psycho Laura_ taking him out that night. A Chevy zipped down the street, dangerously close to the sidewalk, sending her falling onto her backside and the milkshake spilling all over her skirt. As the car made a break-neck turn, she saw a girl sticking her hair out the window, long blonde hair, and screaming joyfully with two boys in the front seats.

Not even bothering with getting a new shake, she bolted home and proceeded to the bathroom to change skirts and tampons. Though she had pads, they made less of a mess and didn’t give her those annoying rashes between her legs. But the boxes weren’t there anymore. Laura figured she may have moved them to the medicine cabinet. Not there either. She checked in her dresser drawers and under her bed if by any chance she brought them in there at some point, but still nothing. The only other person to know about them was Dale. Possibly, he hid them in case Mom or Dad would have gone into the hall bathroom for extra rubbing alcohol or any other convoluted reason. She pulled him aside and asked, “Do you know where the boxes went?”

“The boxes?”

“They’re not under the sink.”

“Are you sure? I didn’t move them.”

“I looked and they’re gone.”

Leland arrived home with a booming “Hello, everyone!” His arms were stuffed with groceries.

“Leland, you went shopping?” asked Sarah.

“You had the list, dear. I thought I might as well get it out of the way!” He set down the paper bags and patted Dale’s back, “Would you mind helping your mother put things away? Don’t strain yourself.” He unloaded the bags with Sarah, while Leland led Laura outside to help him with the rest. There was one bag left. He picked it up and pulled out two boxes, one of tampons and the other of pads. “I realized you didn’t have any and I thought ‘what kind of father would I be if I didn’t make sure my daughter was taken care of?’” 

Laura stared at the boxes, the exact same brand as the ones Dale bought. “Thank you,” she tried to say gratefully. “How did you know?”

“A shot in the dark. Why do you ask?”

She took them and gripped them in her nails.“No reason.” As she began to walk away, Leland grabbed her shoulder, “You remember what I said?”

“Yes, sir.”

He tilted his head. “Are you cramping?”

“A little,” she confessed.

“You can use our Tylenol, but I prefer you _ask first._ ”

The ceiling fan spun rapidly above Laura’s head. She lost herself in the blades, blurring into a single thick ring of white. The door, barely closed, let in the sounds of Mom and Dale talking about a neighbor they thought moved away a decade ago, and probably why Laura’s skirt had a big wet spot on it. There were so many other places in the world she could be right now… 

Her curiosity took over and she tried to read Flowers in the Attic again, before shutting it in disgust as she recollected the plot. The Dollanganger family were perfect until they weren’t, stricken by tragedy and confined to a tiny room to live in secret. Each page, Laura hoped they’d get out safely, and they did, but not without paying a price that she shuddered to think about. 

She rolled over onto her side. Jupiter hopped up and sniffed her head, then rubbed his forehead to hers. At least now she didn’t have to keep him away. Why did she feel like this? Was this normal for everyone or was it only her? She couldn’t tell the difference between unfortunate circumstances and consequences. As far as she was concerned they all blended together and the universe took to punishing her personally. Why did Bobby have to like her? Why did Audrey and Shelly have to know her name? Why did Dale have to go and become a police officer and get himself shot? 

_Because of Leo._

She rubbed her face and hugged Jupiter. She was so glad he never minded cuddling.

Suddenly, he scrambled out of Laura’s arms and through the crack in the door. Leland, holding a heating pad, knocked and entered. “Thought this would help.” Mom used that when Laura first got her period. She reached out to take it, but Leland flashed a confused look, “Well, let me.” He placed the pad on her stomach and pressed his hand down. Not the way Mom did. He gleaned at her and Laura thought about what her face must look like right now, and if he’ll be offended, so she smiled in response incredibly fast and tried to remove his hand. 

“I’ve got it, Dad. Thank you.”

“Now hold on,” he chuckled, “Just because I’m a man doesn’t mean I don’t know anything about this.” His palm went deeper and his thumb swirled around a spot on her pelvis that, revealed by the discomforting pressure, was the origin of the persistent aching.

Footsteps up the stairs. Mom, probably. But it was Dale, holding up a discarded and torn-apart box of tampons that must have been the one he got Laura last night. “Laura, I found these in the laundry room trash-” he stood frozen in the doorway. She didn’t feel relieved at all, in fact, she was terrified. He unfroze himself and casually asked Leland, “Is she sick?” 

“It appears to be that time of the month for your sister. You should leave us alone, I think you're embarrassing her.”

Dale then asked Laura, moving his hand with the box behind his back, “Are you in pain?”

“I was taking Tylenol for the cramps,” she said.

“Do you need the heating pad?” He questioned, firmly.

“It…” Leland’s eyes grew wide at her, “I don’t think it’s necessary, but-”

“Dale, you need to get some rest. If your stitches loosen again, we may have to take you back to the hospital. And I know how much you don’t want that.”

The ceiling fan whirled like a plane propeller. Dale, rigid in place, realizing this was their best lifeline, said, “We should probably let Mom handle this, right? After all, feminine problems.” Not the wording either he or Laura would have use, but Leland tensed up at the suggestion.

“Your mother is likely busy and tired. Besides, I am your father. You’re not going to get _me_ squeamish.”

“Laura, do you want Dad here?” Completely bypassing Leland’s defense, Laura gawked at his boldness. Leland stood directly in front of Dale. With his hand gone, Laura sat up and removed the heating pad.

“I am fed up with the disobedience, and you are harming Laura. Did I not give you privacy when you needed it? Did I not help you during those confusing times when you needed it?” Before Dale could answer and Laura could wonder what that meant, he said, “I am locking this door.”

“It’s broken,” Dale blurted, and he shut his eyes, like he shouldn’t have said that.

“Broken?” He tested it, “What did you do?”

Laura shouted, “Nothing! He didn’t break it.”

“You are always getting your hands into everything, I swear-” and he turned to Laura, “Or did you break it? Do you really not trust your mother and I?”

“I don’t know how it broke!”

“Do not _lie!_ ” She jumped back. Leland slapped the knob. “Just another _fucking_ thing to deal with!”

“What is it!” Sarah yelled from the bottom of the stairs.

“The lock on Laura’s door is broken!” 

“How?”

“I have no idea, honey!” He yelled, sarcastically. While Leland stomped away, ranting, Dale grabbed a bobby pin from Laura’s desk. He stuck it in the key hole on the outside of the door and jiggled it around. “There’s something stuck in there.” He dug the pin in deep and pressed his eye to the hole for a better look.

Laura flipped the switch on the fan, the blades calming down, and then she desperately jumped tracks, “Norma told me Annie called. She’s gonna call the house some time later.”

He paused, every muscle still, and then furiously wiggled the bobby pin, “I’ll try to see if I can get this out,” he swallowed. “I may have to remove the entire mechanism,” and he said to her, “keep the chair by the door. How many chairs do you have?”

“One.”

“You can take the one I have by my desk. Prop that against the window so it stays shut.” He removed the pin and sat apprehensively on his knees, then rested his head against the door knob while Sarah ran upstairs, angrily chiding Laura for not telling her about the knob sooner. 

The Roadhouse. Loud and dark, new faces came and went that never saw her before, all perfect. Her corner booth was taken, so she took a table right by the front windows. Not as discrete, but being at the center, surrounded on all sides, sent a chill up her spine. All she’d have to do was look a little lonesome and wait for someone to drop by, they’d swap spit, and leave as perfect strangers. She heard an unfortunately familiar drunken voice call her from over by the Roadhouse’s stage. Brian sauntered over and plopped down across from her. “Hey, babe! Long time, right?”

“Yeah,” she said, dryly.

He wiped his mouth and rubbed his eyes. “I’m sorry for how I behaved in front of you and, uh-”

“Bobby.”

“Bobby! Right, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t-a hit the bottle, I shouldn’t-a scared him. He seemed pretty okay, pretty skittish.”

Laura toyed with her unopened cigarette carton. She peeled off the cellophane and broke the paper lid, slid out a cigarette, pinched it, and bounced it up and down like what she does with her pencils in class. “Where are the others?”

“They, uh… I guess they’re a little fed up with me right now. Baby, I want to make it up to you. I met a guy and I think he’ll dig you.”

“Who?”

“Waaay cooler than Leo, hell, I think he can run circles around Leo. He’s like, Canadian or something. And man! Whatever you want, he’ll get! Blow, dope, cash, weekend getaways! His brother is some sort of kingpin.”

Laura joked, “Then introduce me to the brother.”

“I would, but the man’s slippery. I guess, with his line of work, you’d have to be.”

She dropped the cigarette and watched it roll off the table, “I’m not interested in joining the Mafia, Brian. Or whatever else this guy has.”

“Come oooooon, what do you want huh? I thought you were a thrill-seeker! Running around with guys like me. Well, this guy is on another level. He _is_ the level!”

 _Whatever that meant._ She picked up the cigarette and prepared to leave. Brian snatched her hand. “Hey,” he growled, “I told him you were dynamite. One of a kind. At least meet him. Don’t be a pussy.”

It looked like he sobered for a second just to make himself clear. Funny of him to talk big about someone else. He was absolutely doing this for himself. Maybe it was worth looking into, after floating around nobodies for months. Nobodies like Brian. “When?”

“Saturday. We meet here and take it from there.”

“... I’ll think about it.”

“Fine by me. I’ll be here.”

“I don’t have to say yes to anything.”

“Whatever you want. But I’m just saying, he’ll like you and hook. You. Up.”

Laura stamped her foot and pressed the cigarette between her lips. Brian handed her his Zippo and she lit it, letting in that first burning hit of nicotine, swimming up through her mouth and nostrils. Outside were bikers socializing and holding on to their best girls, women in high heels and the tightest skirts strutting to their cars. A couple in their truck’s cargo bed rolled around and God knows what else. A car that looked awfully like the family station wagon pulled into a space. She held her breath for a second, but plenty of people owned that same car.

Until, “Oh my god,” out stepped Dale, fully dressed in his jeans and jacket. Laura ducked under the table. “Are you fucking kidding me?!”

“What, what is it?” Brian took a peak, “Isn’t that the cop that got shot?”

“Is he coming in?”

“Looks like. Right now, he’s just talking to someone. You know him?” Laura crawled behind the bar, angering the servers. Brian tried shutting them up by stuffing a couple ones in the tip jar and ordering a drink. “You want something, too?”

“Shut up!” She peered over and saw Dale walk in, limping just a tad, with another man and wearing a stone serious expression. He must know she snuck out. Or, Laura froze, what if she sees him exchange money with that man and the others he joined at the booth across the room for a small brown paper bag, then leave. Or a woman shows up and sits on his lap. She felt dry heaves coming on when Brian popped open his beer and poked his head out as well.

“All wearing the same jacket. Bulky pockets. Undercover cops never learn the ways of proper felon fashion.” Laura looked at him, throwing back booze like no problem.

“You think they’re undercover?”

“Yeah, why not? Or Bookhouse Boys.”

The Bookhouse Boys were a supposed secret society running through Twin Peaks for many decades, and to Laura’s knowledge it seemed like a wannabe Masons or Knights Templar. Why would Dale go running around with them is anyone’s guess, but it’s the nicest answer to this mystery she has. “You think so?”

“Yeeaaah, but don’t think they’re any less annoying than cops.” Laura observed Dale and the three men forming a tight circle, talking with their elbows on the table and speaking very close to one another. Dale nodded in response to something and took a piece of paper from one of the men. Then he left. Laura got up off her knees, but kept crouching behind the bar top. The car rolled off down the road, presumably back home where Dale sneaks into his room and pretends nothing happened. _I guess the shoe’s on the other foot._ Brian stretched out and finished his beer. “That was fun.”

A woman appeared over the bar. Giant, round glasses, bob haircut, a colorful sweater, and a log cradled in her arms. Margaret Lanterman, otherwise known as the Log Lady by everyone, and everyone else that didn’t bother to know her name. She spouted her cryptic wisdom with a quirk of her eyebrow, “You know, the wood has ears too.”

“Oh yeah?” Brian got up and dropped his bottle. “I’ll see ya around, Laura.” And out the door he went. Laura stood up to properly greet Margaret, who smirked at her.

“He’ll learn soon enough, it has _hands_ and eyes just as much as it has ears.” Then she suddenly frowned and raised a hand between her and Laura’s face, “There are only two ways off of a bridge, and yours is weakening.” Great concern laid in her voice. Until she sat down at the bar and ordered a root beer. Laura paused to think about Margaret’s words before realizing that Dale had likely made it home by now and she had to get going fast. Brian left, so no car. But she could easily grab a biker and ask for a ride. Those guys gave them out like candy.

* * *

“I want both.” The guttural voice hissed, “I. Want. Both!”

“Only one. Only one. Only one.” On and on, but he refused.

Off to the side, posed like a mannequin, stood a glamorously dressed woman, very tall and round. Tear drops lined her cheeks. She had her hands on the shoulders of another woman, much smaller and plainly dressed, who had ebony hair and a sharp face. Trees, thin and bony, shot from the floor and into the sky. Were they inside or outside? Her eyes tried to focus on a single point in the space, but it seemed to slap her away and returned the room or forest into a nauseating fluxes.

“The boy and the girl are strong. I want them both!”

“Only one. Only one. Only one,” they thundered. _Are the trees saying this?_

“MIKE, deny me what I deserve?”

On a large tree stump sat a tiny, glowing, circular shape, tipped with a hint of green. It looked like a sort of wedding ring. Laura strained for a better look when she realized she too was trapped in place, either as a statue or a leaf on a branch. Her body felt both unnaturally heavy and full of air all at once. 

The husky voice returned to answer the monster’s demands. “If one dies, you may have the other.”

“I want both of them, MIKE! Their bodies will be silk over my hands.”

MIKE - yes, that was who the husky voice belonged to - asserted the rules, and then a shivering warning, “The starving snake eats its own tail.” But to who, it was unclear. MIKE’s voice sounded close, right over her shoulder. The dark haired woman’s anxious eyes pierced Laura. She reminded her almost of Sarah. It was then Laura noticed a young boy seated beside the dark-haired woman. They shared the same eyes and face.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Palmers attend the retirement party at the Great Northern. Laura makes a shocking discovery. She and Dale go trip through the woods.

Dale erected himself in the slick black tuxedo his father lent him. Laura couldn’t keep her hands off her dress, mostly to prevent herself from smudging her makeup, and get as much as Jupiter's fur off as possible. They both watched themselves in the mirror while Mom dug for her cardigan, the telephone in Dale’s peripheral. Norma had not said a word yet. Dad dashed into the living room singing a show tune neither of them knew. He threw his arms over either of their shoulders and placed himself between them in the mirror. The corners of his mouth were so high they pierced his temples.

“You two look extravagant! Like golden age Hollywood!” Laura could not disagree more. Sarah insisted on helping to “put her face on,” overdoing the lipstick and blush in the low-lit bedroom to the point of parody. “Laura, you look stunning in that color!” Another thing she disagreed with. Had it not been for the flashy pink fabric, she’d like it a whole lot more. “And my god, you could give Gregory Peck a run for his money!” Dale took it in stride, without a doubt to mask his discomfort in being in a tux again. He had his hair slicked back with gel and, old Hollywood though he looked, it upset Laura to see so much of his forehead. Her hair was straightened and the sides pinned back with flower accented pins. If she were a small child again, she'd be twirling in the mirror and picturing the house as a giant, marble castle. Instead, this just felt like overkill.

The Great Northern ballroom was bustling with the invited guests, crowding the over-decorated room for such a small, and seemingly lifeless, old man, alone with a confidante in the corner. Apparently his name is Jordan McCarthy and is a close friend of Ben’s. People Sarah might avoid out on the sidewalk or at the grocery store approached them with practiced glee. And then there were Ben and his brother Jerry Horne with their greetings. “Oh, here they are! The Palmer clan!” Jerry with a hint less enthusiasm than his brother, because his attention was stuck to the seven-foot tall ginger playing with his hair.

“Laura! My, my, you look like a princess.” He pressed a kiss to the back of her hand.

“Doesn’t she?” Leland added, “Guess where we got the dress?”

“At the-”

“Department store!” They said together.

“I would have gladly given you a discount!”

“Oh no worries. It was well worth the price. Same goes for that toaster oven.”

“Oh yes, about that…” 

Leland split from his family to walk with the Hornes and be introduced to the fading Mr. McCarthy, and Sarah stopped by the refreshments table to grab some horderves. The Haywards were all together, dressed in semi-matching attire. Donna flitted to Laura and spun around to show off her green dress and hair bow. “My mom painted my nails, but I told her how to do them!” Orange glitter nail polish and star accents on the index and ring fingers, and hearts on the others. They clashed with the outfit, but it was the right touch of Donna that Laura found alarmingly beautiful.

Her younger sisters, Gertsen and Harriet added their own personal flair with ludicrous amounts of hair bows and wrists full of charm bracelets. Will wore one of his favorite ties - patterned with Scottish chipmunks playing golf, and Eileen sported an amethyst brooch of a cat.

“Dale, you made it! I figured you would have stayed home.” Eileen said.

“It was getting stuffy in there, so I figured I’d tag along.”

“Well, just don’t go too crazy with the dancing. Did you like the bread?”

“Yes, it was delicious!”

More familiar faces popped up to say hello, including the Packard-Martell family, well, two members, Peter Martell and his young sister-in-law, Josie Packard. And there came Sheriff Harry S. Truman, in a sports coat and slacks, his hat removed to reveal his curly brown locks. 

“There he is!” Harry slapped Dale’s back, “Walking and everything!”

Pete chuckled and winked, “You had us all worried there, didn’t ya?”

“Credit goes to Will.” 

Harry regarded the doctor with a nod and playfully saluted Laura and Donna, “Girls, how’ve you been? Enjoying school?”

They both responded with self-aware frowns and gave Pete a good laugh, “You’ll be outta there before you know it. Oh, ladies, I don’t believe I’ve properly introduced Josie.” Josie Packard, married to Andrew Packard, owner of the town’s sawmill, had been a fairly reclusive figure since the wedding in 1983. Apparently she couldn’t speak a word of English. Laura recalled seeing her from a distance in the outdoor ceremony, dressed all in white, ebony hair and youthful complexion in contrast to her grooms thinning gray hair and sagging face spotted with age. Laura peered around the room for signs of Andrew or his sister and Pete’s wife, Catherine. Both were nowhere to be seen. 

“Dale, I’m sure you remember her from your days at the mill.”

“That I do. Evening Miss Josie.”

Josie looked from person to person, holding a pinched smile.

"How have her English courses been?"

"I suppose she's still nervous. Can't fault her. I speak the dang language but Dickinson nearly made me drop out of my bachelor's program!"

Other acquaintances gathered to congratulate Dale on a recovery and for his service as a police officer they hoped to see continued. He took them with courteous pleasure, while Laura’s disinterest grew. The faintest part of her wanted someone to mention Annie. Then, Dale shriveled up at the sound of Dr. Jacoby’s boisterous voice from the other side of the room. “Ah, the Palmers!” Dr. Jacoby, adorned in flashing, loud colors and a wine glass in either hand, both for himself, outstretched his arms in a tipsy welcome gesture. Not that the man was drunk at all, in fact, that was simply how he carried himself. “The whole gang's here! Dale, how are you holding up?”

“Fine. Thank you for asking.” Words as thick and rigid as a steel beam.

“Good, good. Well, if you find yourself suffering any sort of damage _up here_ ,” and he tapped his forehead with his index finger, “then you know who to ring up. I know it’s been a couple years since our last appointment-”

“Thank you, but that will not be necessary.”

“Alright, alright! I trust your judgement.” He said wryly, then he pushed his glasses down his nose and spoke to Laura in a loud whisper. “Your brother was quite a piece of work, but a great challenge! All this talk about imaginary friends-”

“That’s enough, Dr. Jacoby. Thank you.”

 _Cuss him out_ , she cheered in her head. In the corner of her eyes, somewhere slinking in and out of the crowd was Audrey Horne, hoping to be both seen and not seen at once. When she looked back Dale’s way, his patience shattered from Jacoby’s running mouth.

“But now, wh-what was his name again?”

“ _That’s enough_.” His voice was loud enough for several people in proximity to briefly take notice. Sarah cut in by quickly handing Dale an empty glass. 

“Sweetheart, would you grab me some more iced tea?”

“Sure thing.”

Harry watched him head off when Sarah suggested, “Why don’t you come over for dinner sometime? Bring Hawk and Andy. He won’t shut up about the station.”

“I take it he’s bored, huh?” He chuckled, “Yeah, uh, what night? I’m always free.”

Leland had been infrequently glancing over in their direction, then he followed Dale and his annoyed expression over to the drinks table to pull him aside. Pete, Harry, Sarah, and the Haywards launched a stiff discussion on business competition with neighboring logging towns. Jerry popped in to ask Will about his tie.

“Scottish! You know Layla here is Scottish.”

“Irish.”

“Hails straight from the rolling green hills themselves.”

“I’m from Boston.”

Laura, out of their attention, broke off from them, braiding past the attendees into the hallway. Audrey Horne hid in a janitor’s closet. 

“What do you want?” she said.

Laura put on a friendly face.“Just… to say hi.”

“Fine. Hi.”

“Hi.”

They stood in place for a few seconds. It occurred to Laura that Audrey wasn’t wearing any formal attire, and not formal by the standards of a rich girl, but just a plain plaid skirt and sweater with a pair of sneakers. Looking to lighten the mood and get a reaction from her, she asked, “You have a crush on my brother or what?”

Audrey spat at her, “Piss off.”

“All you had to say was ‘yes.’”

“Maybe I do, maybe I don’t. What do you care?”

“I don’t! It was just a joke.”

“Fine.”

“Fine!”

Certainly a reaction. They stared at each other for a couple more seconds, during which Laura felt the distance between them expand and wondered where Sylvia, Audrey’s own mother, had gone to. Then Audrey turned away and said quietly, “He’s nice, is all. He’d say hi to me when he worked for my dad.”

Laura observed Audrey shrinking into the closet, hugging the door. “You probably shouldn’t have a crush on him,” she grinned, “He’s a dork.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, he used to try and sneeze with his eyes open to see if they’d really pop out of his head.”

“Eww!” Audrey giggled and took a step closer, “But I think that’s kinda neat.”

“You and Donna and everyone under the sun think he’s so neat! But he’s a freakin’ dope.” Or she wishes that’s all he was.

More silence passed, their eyes meeting and disconnecting repeatedly, then Audrey gave Laura a piece of advice, “Johnny likes Peter Pan, by the way. Peter Pan is his favorite.” Laura didn’t own a copy of Peter Pan, but the library must have dozens.

Donna ran out into the hallway and called Laura’s name. The old man’s speech was about to start. “Oh, hi Audrey,” Donna said, surprised.

Audrey ran out from the closet and slipped away down another hall. Donna took Laura back into the ballroom where everyone sat at a table and Jordan was wheeled onto stage while a sound engineer took his time fixing the microphone.

As Laura made her mental note, she also recognized the Briggs family’s absence amid the room of acquaintances. She asked Donna, “Have you seen Bobby at all lately?”

“No, but I hear he’s pretty upset about something.”

“Why aren’t his parents here?”

“I don’t know. I think his dad is always working away from home. Laura! Let’s just forget about boys! What are we going to do next semester? I think we should try out for cheer leading!”

Laura frowned. “No way, I don’t wanna cheer lead. Where did you even get that?”

“We’d look so good in the uniforms! And at every football game all eyes are on us,” her eyes glimmered, “Senior boys in the stands-”

“I thought you didn’t want to talk about boys?”

“It’s not just for boys, but for us. I don’t want to sit in the background all the time, Laura.” Interesting, because Laura always felt the exact opposite. Even now as every guest was either talking to one another or watching the old man struggle with his flashcards, she sensed them glimpsing at her, thinking and wondering what kind of girl she is and what it must be like to have the rookie cop as a brother. The rookie cop that, before taking the badge, she knew for a fact was not the darling of Twin Peaks. Where did she stand with them now, and how quickly would they turn on her?

After the old man’s long-winded speech - an impressive feat for a man that looked like all of his wind was knocked out shortly before the party - the band jumped into action with some fast swing and jazz. Will had Gersten in one arm and Harriet hopping around him doing jazz hands and impressions of tap moves while Eileen clicked away on her camera. Jerry and Layla dared a West Coast Swing, and Harry stepped in to take Pete off the floor because his fading knowledge of high school tap dance on full display would do no good for his reputation, or Josie struggling to keep up. Laura did not have any interest in dancing, but Leland couldn’t miss the opportunity. He first bowed before his daughter, who, humoring him, took his hand, and then locked her in a strange fast paced waltz, jerking Laura around the dance floor in what looked like a sad attempt to pull off a Lindy Hop. Dale and Sarah had better success, improvising a combination of a slower Lindy and an even slower Balboa with grace. Of course, pausing every so often to laugh while Laura struggled to reign Leland into a comprehensible routine. Eventually, she threw in the towel and let him ham it up.

He howled, nearly out of breath, “Laura, have I made myself enough of a fool for you?” She didn’t hear him. Donna slid over and they joined hands, just swinging around until they felt sick, giggling up a storm. Donna’s hair bow came undone and locks of her auburn hair floated in front of her face. Laura must have accidentally smudged her makeup, because then Donna rubbed her thumb at the corner of Laura’s mouth and said she “looked like Raggedy Anne.” Then they started spinning again, and Laura thought if Audrey wouldn’t be too adverse to joining in.

When they were too dizzy to continue, Laura flopped into a chair while Donna joined her father. Couples swayed and shimmied, hands on each other's hips and shoulders, eyes only for one another. Adults with their adult feelings.

Dale looked over his shoulder and let go of Sarah to gentlemanly request a dance in a thick, horrendous, Cockney accent that had both her and Sarah in fits. She sighed and looked her brother in the eyes, and humored him too. They hooked arms and went to a space on the floor where they started out in a gentle Waltz. Dale knew the steps quite well, gliding Laura across the floor. He appeared frighteningly tall, even though her chin met his shoulders, he could have towered to the ceiling. Admittedly, he was quite handsome. Mr. Popular for a reason. The urge to see how other people were staring at them bugged her. Hopefully, it wasn’t weird for them to dance like this. 

“Do you think I look weird?” She bashfully asked him.

“What, in the dress?”

“I meant the makeup.”

“To be honest,” he got down into a whisper, “I think Mom over did it.”

She smirked, “My thoughts exactly.”

“But every other day, you are beautiful.” As they turned and step-one-twoed in place, they spotted their parents over at their table. Sarah spectating gleefully, and Leland with a stone face and posture.

“Every _other_ day?”

“You know when your bangs curl up and they reveal that monstrous forehead? Ow!” She pinched his wrist.

“Well you look like a Ken doll. All plastic!”

“I consider that a compliment!”

Then they sped up into what Dale was doing with Sarah, with more turns, dips, and a swing dip that he didn’t warn Laura for and was clearly unprepared for himself, flinching mid-swing, and falling over with Laura underneath him. They hurried to their feet to retrieve Laura’s slipper from under a table which unfortunately knocked over a woman’s chardonnay.

Leland advanced toward them. “Are we quite finished?” His words filled with bitten-back frustration and embarrassment. Dale apologized to the woman and noticed half the room looking his and Laura’s way. “Ben and Jerry would like to talk with you in their office.” Then Dale, knowing exactly where that was, went off with his head down.

Out of nowhere, Audrey ran up to Laura and grabbed her wrist, “Hey you wanna see something funny?” They dashed into a different hallway, cutting corners and growing farther from the ballroom. Audrey, skipping like she woke up on Christmas morning, yanked Laura into a crawl space. Laura was about to screech at her for answers when Audrey lifted a piece of siding from the wall, revealing a small peep hole to Ben’s office. She lit up, and moved aside for Laura to see. Ben threw offer after offer at Dale, “I know, I know, but it’s a consideration. Free-lancing! Something on the side when being a beat cop has it’s slow days.”

“Interesting wording,” Dale snarked.

“Right, Dale,” Ben said, “you’re not a beat cop. But I cannot deny the gifts you have! It is a crime! They won’t utilize you the way you deserve.”

“Why did you leave, Dale? Honestly?” Jerry asked between sips of vodka.

“I wanted to do something more communal.”

“Real estate isn’t communal? Correct me if I’m wrong, but that’s in the definition-”

“Jerry, Jerry,” Ben cut off, “he meant _service._ ”

“If you wanted a gun, we could’a given you one.”

“That's,” Dale awkwardly laughed, “Uh, nice of you, but I really couldn’t see myself in your line of work. I don’t think,” he paused, “it would have fulfilled me.”

“College too, then?” Dale did not take the comment lightly as his mouth sank into a bitter frown. Audrey had her head right up against Laura’s, clearly enjoying herself.

“Well, Jerry, who are we to judge?” Ben fiddled for his cigar box in his desk drawers, “Neither of us received our secondary education.”

“What are you talking about? Yeah, we did.”

“Physically. Spiritually, we were elsewhere. Because, no matter what the phoney-baloney Board of Educators likes to say, a degree means next to nothing compared to hands-on experience through apprenticeships.”

Audrey whispered to Laura, “He got kicked out of Yale for sleeping with the professors!” Laura didn’t know how to take that, except keep listening and see what happens. 

“We didn’t scare you away with our initiation party, huh?” Jerry cackled, his cheeks pushing up into his round black sunglasses.

Ben followed up, just as amused, “Oh yeah, would you like to take another crack at that?”

“No.” Dale bluntly responded.

“Geraldine had a blast with you that night.” Laura’s heart rate spiked. Off to the side, Audrey’s joy dropped into confusion.

“She’s not there anymore.” Jerry added, sadly.

“Shit, really?”

“Knocked up by Steven Lively. Moved to Sacramento. Or no, it wasn’t Steven, it was Cory. No, Cory lives in Albany-”

“What a shame,” Ben shook his head and handed a cigar to Jerry, “What a waste.” He offered one to Dale, who shook his head.

“I don’t smoke.”

“Old habits die hard, my friend.”

Audrey turned to Laura, who had trouble breathing, likely because of the dusty space, and asked “Was Geraldine a girlfriend of his?” Not a single Geraldine came to mind. Laura understood her brother in his youth could be, for lack of a better word, promiscuous. His fight with Annie became clearer in her head, as did the potential woman Geraldine and how they spent that night. It wasn’t the dust hindering her breath. Laura fumbled for the board. Audrey helped her push it back into place. Outside, her parents were looking for her. Donna must have seen Laura’s troubled expression and asked what happened, but Laura couldn’t say much except that she was tired.

The moment they arrived home, ties came undone, necklaces unhooked, shoes tossed to the corner. Sarah slumped into the armchair and Dale sighed deeply as he laid himself down on the couch, lifting off a massive load of stress. Leland sat in the kitchen away from all of them, and Laura couldn’t decide what to do with herself. There was a message on the answering machine indicated by the lone red blinking light in the dark downstairs. Norma’s voice rang through the speaker.

“Hello, Dale. It’s Norma, I’m sorry I missed you, but I’m letting you know that I told Annie, who does not wish me to disclose her location, about what happened and that she wishes you and your family well. Please take care.”

Sarah ran over to Dale, throwing her arms around him. He only sat there without a twinge of emotion except exhaustion. Laura fled to her room and futility shut the door.

In the dead of night, Laura listened to Dale leave his room and head to the front door. She tiptoed after him and peaked around the corner while he put on his jacket and boots, snatched the car keys, and stormed onto the driveway. She waited on the staircase until he opened the door again and said, “You wanna come?”

What did she want to say here? _No? Yes? I hate you? What is wrong with you?_ He gestured for Laura to hurry up with an answer. Without thinking, she said, “Yeah-” 

And he cut her off. “Okay, get your shoes.” She threw on her sneakers and he hurriedly unlocked the car. Laura struggled with her seat belt as Dale backed into the street, the car’s tire dropping off the curb with a hard thunk, put it into forward gear, and made a beeline for the mountains.

“Where are we headed?”

“The border.” His profile was stiff as a board.

“Huh?”

“If the trade is based in Twin Peaks, or it’s one of its stops, then they are likely to cross at any of these back roads.”

He talked as if Laura had a debriefing earlier and fully understood what he meant, but sounded like he was too frustrated to care about explaining himself or make up some fake excuse for running off each night. The drive went on, stabbing into the black void.

They turned into a clearing high up a mountain side, so steep the car was nearly vertical. “This,” Dale shifted the gear into park, “is where I was shot.” Laura gaped at the spot. “There are owls up here,” the slightest tinge of excitement flared up, and his hands tightened on the steering wheel. “From what I know, they meet up with a middle man and make exchanges, then take a detour down a deer trail where they have an emergency vehicle parked and ready.”

“How do you know that?”

“Basic deduction.” It was so dark outside, one could assume that every hint of light in the universe died. Laura’s worried imagination created shapes in the woods, tall figures lurking around them, waiting to push the car down the mountain side, or rip them from their seats and drag them away.

“You think you’re going to catch them by yourself?” Laura trembled and trying to laugh in the same breath. His determined face stared on into the nothing. His jaw clenched up and his back straightened. Had he been a dog, his ears would have twitched too. 

“There’s something in these woods. Do you remember those old stories? I think…” He put the car into gear and got onto the road, then drove down another path off the asphalt. The trees became spears jutting from the grass. They stopped, the headlights acting as their only relief from the dark inside and outside of the car.

“Dale, I want to go home.”

He opened the door, the sharp, cold Pacific air smacking them in their seats, and stepped out in front of the headlights. Then he walked. “Dale!” Laura yelled after him, and threw open her door to follow. Pressing the steep trail, testing it’s logic, the headlights faded away and were replaced by a darkness deeper than Laura could have imagined. And somehow, despite the eye-damaging lack of light, there stood in perfect clarity twelve sycamore saplings surrounding a circle of rocks. A curiously mundane sight that hit the right buttons to set off a host of instinctive flags to get out as fast as possible.

“Glastonbury Grove.” Dale breathed out in wonder.

A place they’d heard of growing up, in campfire stories and rumors. It was very real and common knowledge, but seeing it before them acting against any bit of rationale. “I want to go home. Now.”

“Hold on. I thought this was further south toward town… ”

“Dale.”

“I know!” He boomed. The number of times Laura heard Dale yell were far and few. Laura locked herself in place while he edged closer to the ring of trees, “I’ve seen this place so many times.”

Owls gathered on the pine limbs hanging above them, eyes like knives. Dale crept closer to the ring of trees. The blackness surrounding nonsensically faded into a warm color. Laura had to reason this, was the sun coming up? But the horizon was turning _red._ Like blood. The atmosphere shifted around them and Laura felt light-headed, the way you do just before drifting off to sleep and entering a dream, unable to tell when it was you entered and how the dream began.

“Get back here and take me home!” Dale froze, suspended between the twig-like sycamores. He slowly turned around and stared at Laura dead in the eye. He furrowed his brow and said faintly, like their mother would, “I just saw you.”

Laura quietly pleaded, ready to cry, “Can we go?”

“Yes,” he said, fully there, “we can go.”

The entire way home, those owl eyes remained with them, taking their own eyes off the road to look back at any trailing cars, or stopping to search around a corner in the house.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A dream of things to come.

_Where are you?_

**_Where are you?_ **

She begged her legs to move faster through the halls, his hands clawing away at the floor to draw her in closer. She entered a room without a door, but he moved past it, blind and depending on the sound of her breathing. 

**_Where are you?!_ **

The walls vanished too. Now she was open and surrounded by him, waiting for the exact sound to alert him and finish it. Laura’s conscious attempts to control her breathing only made her want to pant harder. Outside, or inside, above or below, the voice of a woman cried her name. Or what sounded like her name, because there were indications of letters and syllables that didn’t line up with “Laura,” but her brain kept answering “what” in response and wanting to go to them. Another set of footsteps ran down the hall that she should be able to see into, but turned invisible behind a black shroud. 

The voice morphed from a woman’s to a man’s, frantic and in time with the footsteps? _Dale?_

Underneath the beast, dragging and scraping the floor, his hands jabbed into their sternums, were two bodies, one of a young man and an older man with white hair. His reflecting eyes connected with hers and he lunged.

**_Let me take you, and you know the taste of gold. Let me feel you and will have a thousand eyes._ **

_No._

**_Do not make me kill you._ **

_NO._

**_I WILL BRING YOU TO YOUR MOTHER!_ **


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Laura meets an influential figure in the Twin Peaks underground.

Brian arrived at the booth with five strangers, all dressed in either leather jackets or flannel shirts sloppily buttoned up. One of them, a woman, wore a tiny blue dress, pumps, and a whole store’s worth of makeup and jewelry. Their hair was varying degrees of ruffled and unwashed. How was it that Laura felt over-dressed and under-dressed for the occasion? “These are friends of Jacques. We’re using Arlo’s car to get to his cabin.”

“Thunderbird, my man, Thunderbird.” The man presumed to be Arlo growled out and cackled through his yellow teeth. 

“Jacques? Is that his name?”

“Jacques Renault, hon.” Said the woman in the blue dress. “Don’t forget it.”

The five friends introduced themselves. Aside from Arlo, there was Keith, George, Bennett, and Farah. They all crammed themselves into the minuscule Thunderbird, with George urging Laura to get in closer to him.

“Fuck right off, Georgie,” hissed Farah, “You don’t even know what she’s made of.” Caked in purple eye shadow and pink lipstick, she puckered her lips at Laura and flicked up her eyebrow. Laura thought someone like Farah only existed in fashion magazines and the soaps Sarah watched. Most of the women Laura saw at the Roadhouse made themselves look either too modest or like they were trying to go all out, but failed. Farah’s continent-sized hair, enormous earrings, necklaces that fell down to her hips and a dress too tight you could see every curve and bump all fascinated Laura, and drew some respect for her.

“Where’s the little guy you talked about, Brian? You mentioned a little guy,” asked Arlo.

“Yeah, uh, Danny.”

“Bobby.” Laura corrected.

“He wasn’t coming.”

“Tough shit. Your story made him sound hilarious.” He took his eyes off the road, “Is he hilarious?”

Laura answered quickly so he could turn his attention back, “He can be funny, sure.”

He laughed, “Niiiice.”

The car crushed Laura in, like a trash compactor. Max, Sean, and Brian weren’t teenagers to be exact, but to call them adults was a long shot. These folks talked with world-weary experience of sex and parties. They had a better idea of who they were and what they wanted than those three boys. Adults that took command and set out on missions. Adults that she could surely convince into liking her. If Ben Horne welcomed her with a giant smile and warm greetings every time he saw her for no reason, she could pull this off.

After parking the car in the backwoods, they walked up a hill to a small log cabin. Jacques Renault sank into his beat up couch, large, small-eyed and small-mouthed, curly hair down his neck and hints of a five o’clock shadow, but in his posture alone, leaned back, arms up on the cushions, his sly expression, carried an abundance of confidence and allure Laura might see in old Hollywood stars, at odds with the unbuttoned flannel and wife-beater, but not overpowered by them. He patted his thigh and said with a thick Quebec accent, “Take a seat, little lady.” The man named Bennett shoved Laura forward and she timidly placed herself right on the edge of the couch cushion, “No no, here,” he patted his thigh again. She understood what he meant and, slowly, moved to his lap. She wasn’t sure how to position herself, but Jacques did it for her, wasting no time to scooch her into place and slap a frying-pan sized hand down on her knee. “Comfy-cozy, huh?”

Her open mouth pulled up into a foxy grin and she said, “Maybe.” But her chest pounded like a drum. 

“Don’t worry about it, don’t worry. Eh, Brian was right, you are a beauty.”

Brian spoke up, self satisfied, “What I say?”

But Jacques ignored him, “‘Ow old are ya?”

“Fourteen.”

“Nice, nice. And you don’t look a day over twenty-two.” Laura blushed. A grown woman? With this makeup? She’d have never thought. “What you say your name was?”

“Laura Palmer.” She and Brian said simultaneously. 

“Palmer… Palmer,” he wondered, “not _that_ Palmer.”

“What?” asked Brian.

“The cop that got Leo. And who Leo tried to ventilate, if not for his bullshit aim. I can’t have me a cop’s daughter.” Laura froze in his lap, and though he made a rejecting remark his hand stayed firm on her leg.

“S-sister.” She stuttered.

“My apologies.” He turned to Brian, “You brought me a cop’s sis?”

“I didn’t know!”

Impulsively, Laura protested. “It’s not a problem!” She wanted to keep her chance to make some impression, as her mind flickered between whether or not to actually act on it. She was _there_ , after all.

“Hmm yeah,” Jacques gripped her hip, “Cops around ‘ere are useless anyways.”

“Yeah, and you know Leo,” said Keith, “he’s all muscle, no gray matter.”

“Heh, he screwed the pooch.”

Laura shakily asked Jacques, “You know Leo?”

“Do I know Le-o,” he sang, “it’s, ah, a working relationship.” He caressed her cheek, “I know _you_ know Le-o. Stepped into the bullpen. He aint all that bad. Once you get him drunk, hehehe!”

She sat motionless, her mental energy entirely dedicated to weighing her options. Stay or leave. Jacques seemed like the type of man to get what he wants and pass it around, if the five people behind her were any indication. Brian might go blabbing about her chickening out to his friends and their friends. No more favors. She already lost the Chevy thanks to her bringing along Bobby. But he knew Leo. _Leo._ The reason for her busted cheek bone and Dale being at home. For a _bullet in his body._

“Man, I gotta tell Jean about this. That brother a’ yours has come a long way!”

“Jean?”

“My big brother. He’s got his own thing going on.”

“Would he have known _my_ brother?”

“It’s not as simple as that. Know him? No. Heard ‘a him? Oh yeah!” And he cackled so hard a drop of spit hit Laura’s chin. _What on Earth did that mean?_ She went back to that night she saw Dale at the Roadhouse with a couple of friends, knowing now from his own mouth that he was investigating his own shooting outside of jurisdiction. If Dale had the willingness to act as a loose-canon, what else had he done in the dark?

 _Geraldine,_ she thought. The fascination for Farah switched to repulsion once her image replaced the unknown woman. 

“Why don’t you show me what you’re made of, honey?” His teeth, yellow and eroding, opened to reveal a horrid smell on his tongue. Laura came back from her thoughts and tried not to make her disgust too obvious. Quick thinking and light on her feet, she jumped off and ran to Farah, and yanked her down for a big kiss, much sloppier than Laura anticipated. She pulled away and hastily grinned. The room erupted into laughter.

“Not bad, eh! Not bad! Old hat, but I love a lady with a sense a’ humor!” He clapped his hands like a toy monkey. Then Farah spun Laura around and leaned her back, placing a French kiss on her that petrified Laura. 

“Need to work on your form, sweety,” she said, wiping her lipstick-caked mouth. Laura tried to catch her breath and watched everyone in the room gaze amusingly at her. She was surrounded, losing her balance on her mother’s high heels. Her feet came out from under her and Jacques caught her just in time. 

“Man, can’t wait to see you react to the heavy stuff. You’re a fun girl!” The room grew light with a party atmosphere, Jacques, Brian, and their friends passed out wine bottles and cigarettes. Jacques dumped out a paper bag full of white powder and took out a razor blade, scraping it into thin organized lines.

“What’s that?”

“Oh you are a baby. You really don’t know what this is?”

“I mean,” cop procedural, courtroom dramas, movies, kids at the Roadhouse, “it’s cocaine, right? That’s what that is?”

“Yeah, wanna sniff?”

“I shouldn’t. I have something to do later tonight.”

“Aaaalright, I’ll be right here,” Jacques dangled a tiny baggy in front of his face, “For a price, though.” He pursed his lips and waggled his tongue at her. 

She won't have to worry about that. The mood lifted like a hot-air balloon, friendly and intimate. It only she could stay and keep her body and mind like jello amidst these strangers. Arlo was kind enough to drop her off. "'Till next time." Laura climbed into her window and threw on a pair of pants and a sweater, and ran downstairs to the dining room.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry, Hawk, and Andy come over for dinner. Laura visits Bobby.

Sheriff Harry S. Truman, and his deputies Andy Brennan and Hawk Hill entered in their casual attire, Harry however still wearing his uniform jacket. Leland and Sarah welcomed them over to the set table and took their coats. 

Hawk took off his coat and hung it on the back of his chair. “Man, Mrs. Palmer you might have to slap my wrist away at some point. I have not eaten since 5’ o’clock in the morning.”

“Well, I hope you all love steak and salad.”

“Medium rare, I hope.” Harry laughed. 

Leland pulled out a bottle of Merlot, “Any for you gentlemen?”

“None for Harry, he’s driving.” They all raised their glasses while Leland poured. Andy leaned over and asked Sarah if she had any lemonade.

“Oh, of course, just a second.”

Laura dashed to the living room when her mother stopped her, “Oh good, go help your brother.”

Dale, unnaturally quiet, finished with the platters and salad bowl, already fully prepared. He had pitchers of water and lemonade out and just needed help bringing them to the table. 

“Hi.” She muttered.

“Where’ve you been?”

“At Donna’s. Like I said.”

He gave her a side-glance and took the bowl and platter out of the kitchen. Harry, Hawk and Andy went in for hugs. 

“When was the last time we had a rookie go down that fast?”

“ _I_ was the rookie.”

“Did you get better?”

The men shot the breeze with wild stories and how empty the station has been.

“I tell you, it’s so strange. I remember my big brother busting you for speeding!”

“Good ol’ Frank,” Dale said, “He probably shouldn’t have let me off the hook for that. Seventy-five in a forty.”

“Ah, there was no one else on the road, anyhow.”

Andy piped up with his soft, apologetic voice, “Dale, I am so sorry. Really, I don’t know why I couldn’t act quick enough-”

“It’s a-okay, Andy. No one’s at fault here. Well, no one in this house,” he snickered.

Laura wandered in with the pitchers and Andy and Hawk bombarded her with greetings and questions.

“Hi Laura, how are your classes?”

“I think you get taller each time I see you.”

“Are you helping your mom and dad around the house? I remember when my older brother Timmy broke his hip at the dock. Oh boy-”

Laura answered them, surprising herself with how she managed to mask her exhaustion. As they ate, She listened in and out at the table, trying to find it in her to take a bite of her food. She never took any of the cocaine, but her brain deflated as if she was coming down from a descent high. Meanwhile, Dale was a light bulb, switching between disarmed coziness and a wooden tone.

“Makes me wonder if you went with the Alphabet boys instead of local. One’s a little more prestigious, but lord, the red tape-”

Leland added, “FBI requires a bachelor’s degree, at the least,” rather bluntly.

Dale soured. “My grades weren’t good enough.”

“Oh, on the contrary, they were perfect.”

Then Harry patted Dale’s shoulder, “The feds are overrated anyhow! We got a jack of all trades.”

“Master of None.” Dale met eyes with his father, but Laura knew from the way he looked in her direction that he heard her say it as well. “But!” Leland went on, “Better than to be a Master of One!” 

Sarah and the officers all agreed. Harry asked, “Do you remember Big Ed, Laura?” 

“At the gas station, is that right?” cut in Sarah.

“Uh yes, he and his wife Nadine look after their nephew every so often. I hear they’re making plans for official guardianship. He’s your age, Laura.”

“Oh, I don’t think Laura needs more boys in her life,” Leland commented.

“ _More_ boys?” Andy asked, innocently confused.

Hawk cracked up, “Bobby Briggs. I heard of some puppy love going on.”

“Oh you two have always been friendly,” said Sarah, “I remember he used to pull on your pigtails!”

Laura prepared to ask to be excused, when Dale inquired, “Are you still seeing him?”

She stared at him and sharply affirmed, “No, I’m not.”

“If she isn’t, she isn’t. No big deal.” Leland chortled and waited for Laura and Dale to calm down, then his own demeanor hardened. Harry went to work drumming up a topic of crime rates in Deer Meadow, Hawk and Andy with their contribution and Sarah listening carefully.

The phone rang and no one was in the mood to pick it up, so they let it go and leave a message. It stopped, then rang again.

“You recognize the number?”

Sarah checked it, “No. Give it a minute.”

Then a third time. The voice mail revealed a gentle and formal tone, clumsily delivering the message she rehearsed in her head. 

“Dale, it’s me.” Annie’s voice, soft and quaint, and shaking slightly, “I heard about the shooting from Norma. I am so sorry. I hope you’re at home now and doing alright. Stay safe. Tell your family that I give them my love.”

Dale had no expression, then he adjusted himself and searched around like his ears had been ringing. Harry looked to his coworkers and carefully got up, “I think it’s, uh, best that we get going.” Andy sadly took his last bite of steak. They gave their thanks to Sarah for the meal and wished the rest of them goodnight. As the door shut, Sarah slammed her fist on the table and stormed to the kitchen. This time Leland followed her and shot Dale a disappointed face. Dale and Laura, alone, waded in the upsetting aftermath. 

“Are you happy?” Laura questioned him, “With your job? They seem happy with theirs.”

Dale did not move.

“I’m not seeing Bobby, but if I was, I wouldn’t tell you.”

Under his breath he said, “Of course you wouldn’t.”

“What?”

“God forbid I worry about you. You don’t have to act this way. It gets us nowhere.”

With that, the question Laura had been chomping at the bit to ask finally passed her lips, furiously and aiming to hurt. “Who’s Geraldine?”

Hitting the precise button. Dale gawked at her, trembling.. “How do you know about that?”

“Who cares!? Is that why Annie left? You cheated on her?”

He pointed a finger at her, “I did not cheat on her and you are making claims with no context whatsoever.” He inhaled sharply. “How. Do you know about that?”

Laura crossed her arms and answered him defiantly, “I eavesdropped.”

His mouth twisted up to hold in his anger. Then seethed out, “Dammit, Laura!” He stood up and kept his arms close inward, though wanting to throw them out like their father might in a moment like this. Laura, likewise, felt she would turn into her mother if she stepped up to reassure him and apologize. But she was tired of keeping secrets from each other. Hypocritical, she thought, but her reasons were bigger and grander and if only he could be honest then maybe she would too. 

Dale wanted to be so infallible, and made the mistake of playing that role in front of Laura, who by now saw and knew too much of him to fall for that. Yet who he really was escaped her constantly. Eight years ago, he left her crying on the lawn while he drove somewhere far away, but he always came back. Leave, return, leave, return, sometimes she wanted to throw him down the river and let him wash up on an island miles away. Other times she wanted to break his legs so he couldn’t disappear anymore. What right did he have to lie to her? Did he hate her so much that he treated her like a doll he could forget about when convenient?

He methodically inhaled and exhaled, channeling some meditation technique. Laura stormed out through the front door and out onto the sidewalk. She kept looking back, waiting for him to come chasing after her. And when he didn’t, she waited for Mom. And when _she_ didn’t, she waited for Dad. Then she bolted down the street, crying and cursing, all the way to Bobby’s house.

Her erratic breathing worsened when she came up to the front door. There was no way she could face his parent’s like this. She went to either side of the house, hoping for the fence gate to be open so she might slip in and knock on Bobby’s window. Whatever she needed to find there, she wasn’t sure. A person that knew her but didn’t _know_ her and would accept her without question. Suddenly, Bobby opened the gate, holding a baseball bat, worry and shock plain on his face. He calmly approached Laura, “You-you alright?” he asked when she so clearly wasn’t. 

“Oh god, Bobby!” She threw herself at him and held on tight, “I’m sorry! Really, I shouldn’t have said those things to you.”

His resistance gradually melted, dropping the bat and placing his hands on her back, “It’s okay, Laura, I… got over it.”

“I want to make it up to you.”

He stuttered for a response, “Oh-”

Laura pulled back and batted her eyes. “Let’s hang out together, just us. Our secret, but I mean it this time. I won’t drive you away. Promise.” _Please say yes._

Bobby’s eyes were saucers, “Do you wanna come inside?”

“No.”

He shifted uncomfortably, “Do you want to go home?”

“I don’t know.”

“I’ll… I’ll walk with you.”

He took her hand and Laura began to look at him differently. He wasn’t Donna, Audrey, Mom, Dad, or Dale. His hand was so nice in hers and the stars in the sky were shimmering like the ones through the school house. 

“Listen, um,” Bobby said “I’m sorry for yelling at you. I…” He was incredibly shaken.

“What is it?”

He whispered, “do you love me?”

And then a hammer smashed the illusion, “What?” 

“Laura, I think we should be together, okay? Not just hang out.”

Now she wanted to get back inside and forget everything she just said. _Fuck!_ But here he was, willing and holding her. Just as fast as he went for her hand again, Bobby was knocked back, falling onto the sidewalk, and guarding his cheek. Laura shrieked as Dale, with Leland and Sarah coming after him, registered what he had just done.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dale and Leland have a revealing confrontation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Accusations of incest.

“Mr and Mrs. Briggs, words cannot describe how regretful I am for my actions. I assumed that he had hurt my sister, who told me that he was not responsible, but I refused to listen to her.”

Major Briggs politely nodded, “I understand, Dale. And I’m sure Bobby understands too.” The Briggs’ family were gathered on their couch opposite the Palmers. Dale, as composed as he could manage, stood respectfully like a soldier at boot camp. Bobby’s face was turned away, glancing only at Laura, who prayed for a meteor strike. “I grew up an only child, but I am sure that had I been in your place, I would have jumped to that same conclusion and made sure to act quickly.” Mrs. Betty Briggs was far less delicate, and less quick to agree, but forgiving nonetheless. The Major gestured for his son to stand up. They did not shake hands, but exchanged strained looks. Sarah tugged Dale out the door and Leland thanked the Mr. and Mrs.

But before Laura joined her family, she hugged Bobby, her head resting on his shoulder. He returned it and sighed. She delicately and quietly told him, “We’ll talk later. Come meet me at the Roadhouse.” And he nodded.

When the door closed, Leland threw his coat onto the hanger and barked at Sarah and Laura, “Wait for us” Laura’s eyes stayed on Dale while Sarah pulled her away, knowing what was coming. “I can never seem to get through to you.”

“It was an accident and a foolish overstep on my part. I apologized. It’s done.”

Leland held his gaze, and then went into the dining room.

Laura was already seated at the table. Sarah hastily put out the salad bowl, leaves wilted, and the macaroni and ham cold and dry. Dale took his chair across from Laura and Sarah, but Leland remained standing. He gripped his chair and glowered at the entire table, then circled it, from Dale, to Sarah, to Laura, back to his seat.

“I’ve had it up to here. With the disrespect. With the attitudes. You two still think you’re children, that you are allowed to act this way with no repercussions. Well it’s maddening!” He put a hand over his face, squinting his eyes to hold back tears, “It’s maddening and your mother and I are tired of it!” In a flash those tears vanished and were replaced by a hateful fire.

Sarah compulsively nodded and said in a quaking tone, “It’s improper.”

“It is! And this has to end!” 

Dale stared at his empty plate, then moved to see Laura holding herself, biting her lip, fighting her own tears. Then, not seen since the day he left home years ago, shot his most antagonizing look at Leland. That’s when it happened. Leland leaned over the table, teeth grit and eyes manic. Almost having to put his knee up, he was so close to Dale’s face. His voice simmered in a low growl, “You really don’t think I know what you are doing to your sister?”

Like a lightning bolt had struck, the room clammed up and fried any remotely comfortable feelings. Dale’s mouth dropped, filled with horror. Laura and Sarah both panicked and asked, “What are you talking about?”

“Leland, what are you saying?”

He snapped at Laura, bypassing Sarah, “Do not. Pretend. Do not look at me like you don’t know either. It is repulsive. Whatever kind of degenerate you’ve been turned into, I will have it  _ sorted out. _ ”

Laura’s voice peaked into a high, horrified, pitch, “What are you talking about?!”

He switched back on the agonized pain and sadness, “How could you let him do that to you?” And threw his arms out over his head, as if invoking some heavenly intervention to end this curse. “Don’t you both know that we love you?” The lamp light flickered in response, or warning. Dale had enough. He bolted out of his chair and around the table to Leland’s side, “You’re delusional.”

“Dale!” Sarah got up as well. 

“You are deeply, deeply sick, I see that now,” Leland lamented. His hands fell to meet Dale’s face, clasping his cheeks and restraining themselves from crushing inward. “Your mother and I have tried so hard to put you on the right path, college and career opportunities, but it was a lost cause! Dear god, my boy-”

“Leland, you are drunk and you are exhausted, please sit down.” Sarah got behind him to futilely attempt to pull him away. He backed into Laura’s chair with Sarah behind, and Dale in front. Laura couldn’t get out. She watched the three of them and yanked at the tablecloth, ready for the blows to start.

“You’ve crossed the line! I’ve had it. Get out of this house.”

Furious, but unwavering, Dale commanded, “Dad, you need to sit.”

“Get out.”

“Don’t say that! Don’t say that!” Sarah cried, pulling her hair.

“Get out!” 

His hand flew out and clenched Dale’s shoulder. Instantly, Dale ripped it off and yelled at the top of his lungs. “SIT DOWN!”

It was as if the house had gone dark for a split second, everything but the fury on his face out of Laura’s focus. Leland backed up into Sarah, who let go and backed away from  _ him _ . He looked from her to Laura, completely aghast, and then Dale. Sarah closed her mouth and hardened at the sight of her husband, standing tall like a stubborn tree. Laura rushed out of her chair and stood behind Dale. Leland eyes darted between both sides, concluding that he was outnumbered.

“Okay,” he gently said, like he was taming a wild animal, “I flew off the handle there. I truly, truly, do not know what got into me.” Nervously chuckling, like you do when you spill a drink or mess up a sentence, Leland exhaled and triumphantly put his hands in his pockets. First he turned to Sarah, and then Dale, and chuckled again, “We really had quite a clash there, uh? I don’t recall the last time I ever heard you scream like that!” Everyone but him remained transfixed, confused and wary, wondering if the last minute had actually just happened. Laura looked up at Dale. He analyzed their father carefully. Sarah appeared to be doing the same. None of them could figure out what to do now.

“Dale, Laura, I…” he stopped to gather his words. The grin flicked on and off, marking a struggle to keep his composure. He stared at Laura, staying close to Dale, and though his mouth said, “it’s alright,” his eyes said, “how could you?” “I am very sorry. I shouldn’t have said those things.” 

Under a spell or genuinely convinced, Dale exhaled in acceptance, “Everything’s fine, Dad.” But still very off. Sarah's eyes fluttered and she smiled. Then they all looked at Laura, Leland looking apologetic but impatient, Dale and Sarah looking impatient for different reasons, pleading quietly to just get it over with.

“Apology accepted,” she bluntly said. Then Leland held out his arms for a hug. Cautiously, his children walked into the embrace, their distrust apparent as their father closed around them, sealed, imprisoning, detecting his children’s fear and in both trying to harvest it and quell it, held them tighter. Like a blessing, Sarah darted forward and wrapped her arms around them too, and a wave of warmth washed over, until Leland sent her away. 

“Sarah,” he said, “You should get the dishes.” And she did as she was told.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dale and Laura make a hospital visit. Afterward, they come clean about certain things...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Description of genital injuries.

The pain in Laura’s groin forced her awake, clutching to herself so hard she might pull her entire body inside out. Outside she heard retching in the bathroom. Pulling every bit of will power away from maintaining the fetal position and into her legs, she crawled out of bed and onto the floor, stopping at the door. “Dale,” she called.

The retching stopped, and Dale answered her through labored panting, “Laura, is everything okay?”

“Mm hm,” she whimpered. And a sudden fiery pang hit her. “Are _you_ okay?”

“Not entirely,” and he coughed, “what’s wrong?”

Laura pushed herself aside to turn the knob and stick her head out. Dale left the bathroom door partially open, his arm resting on the toilet bowl seat and his face visibly worn. “It hurts again,” she said, “really, _really_ bad.”

“You mean…” He motioned to the lower area of his torso.

“Yeah.” And tears crept through her eyes.

“That’s it, we’re going.” He wiped his mouth and stood upright, holding his side and stomach while delicately treading the landing to Laura’s room. 

“Don’t tell Mom and Dad. Right?”

“Don’t tell Mom and Dad,” he repeated. He crouched down, slid his arms under Laura’s back and legs, yanked her up, which by the sounds of his breathing took a lot out of him, maneuvered the creaking steps one at a time, and made it to the car.

Dale wasn’t sure where exactly to go, the doctor’s office or the ER. Going to the office meant they had better odds of seeing Hayward than some other doctor that would run their mouth to someone else. He carried her into the waiting room and checked them in at the front desk. Laura squeezed her eyes shut, blocking out the patients that were surely watching them. “Okay,” he said, “They’re gonna have to check you. Just hold your breathe like last time-”

“I have a tampon in,” Laura shook. “I don’t want them to take it out.”

Dale nodded and took her to the restroom. Two stalls, and thankfully no one else inside to side-eye him for entering a women’s restroom. Laura closed the door and sat down. Just spreading her legs brought tears streaming. Forcing herself to look down, disgusted, red and raw and blood that she couldn’t tell if were from her period or something else. There was the urge to vomit, not physically, but of anything. She wanted to cry so hard even when she was already crying. She bent forward and held her hand out under the stall door. Dale took it and squeezed hard. Then she slowly pulled out the soaked tampon with the other hand. It was caked in blood, old and new. 

They waited patiently for Will. They prayed to god it was Will. Once they saw his face, they knew there was some hope for them yet, as sadness and worry arrived to his face at the sight of their urgent anguish. Dale left them to it, but sent a little signal for Laura to put on a strong front. It was the one time Laura hated the hospital policies. As gentle as Will and his assistant were, so thoughtful and reassuring, the loneliness piled on for each second Dale was outside and the inherent embarrassment of having anyone examine that area, probably thinking all kinds of pitiful things. She thought of Dale pacing and biting his thumb and rubbing his hands through his hair. Like Mom. _I want Mom here._ But their father would know then, too. _I want Donna here._ God, what would _she_ say? And Bobby, he loved her. The word lost meaning the more times she ran it through her head. 

_Vaginal tears._ That’s what Will confirmed. “I might have to tell your parents about this one.”

“No!” She cried, “Please, I don’t need stitches do I?”

“They’re lesions, very small, they’ll have to self heal. Laura, is there anything that you’ve been doing lately? I know girls your age, they begin to wonder about their bodies. There’s nothing at all wrong with it. But it’s important that you tell me so I can tell _you_ how to be careful and not catch an infection.”

“I-I’m a virgin.” Her face twisted up in regret at saying that.

“Okay.” He responded, cooly.

“I’ve… been using tampons.”

“Anything else?”

“I guess,” her throat closed, eyes heating up, “masturbating?”

“Alright, alright,” Will rested a sympathetic hand on her shoulder, “I won’t… inform your parents. Some antibiotics will help, you can use any painkiller just so long as it’s the proper dosage of course. Every night, something to help soothe cramping, take a bath of warm water and baking soda. I have pamphlets in my office for proper tampon-insertion and genital care. You’ll be just fine, Laura.”

He brought Dale back in and gave a sanitized rundown, and what to look out for, but it’s not as if he was clueless. On his profile, Laura saw the grave expression of someone that knew just as much and just as little as Laura did right now, the smallest parts of their mind tugging their stomachs along to a realization neither of them could afford to confront. Will wished them a safe night and left with his assistant. They were alone.

“It happened again,” Laura shuttered. She laid down and held her knees to her chest..

Dale was silent

“I don’t want to die.”

He crouched beside the examination table to meet Laura at eye-level. “What makes you think you’re going to die?”

“Because I just do. I can’t… explain it.”

“Try.”

“He wants me. He hates me and he wants me.”

Dale gulped, “Laura, he can’t touch you.”

“I think he’ll kill you too.”

He stared long and hard, and his mouth pulled from a frown to a straight line.

“Bobby didn’t hit me.”

“I know Bobby didn’t hit you. You fell.”

“No, Leo Johnson hit me.” Laura painfully watched her brother gape in shock as she explained the whole event, “I was in a bar and he hit me. Later I heard him talk about shooting you. You could have died because of me.” She shut her eyes and a furnace-like hand cupped her cheek.

“You wanna know what I said to Annie the night we broke up?”

She opened them and stared into his.

“We were fighting. We’d been fighting for a while by that point. She brought up Dad and I brought up her step father.” Now it looked like he wanted to cry. “I had been going out Laura, I’d been rejecting the medication, like you saw. And not only because I wanted to catch the man that shot me.” He didn’t need to finish, she finished in her head. _But because I hate being in that house._ “Geraldine was a girl Ben and Jerry Horne introduced me to when I was a business intern. Before I dated Annie.”

“Oh,” she breathed. She asked, “Was she older?”

“Yes, I would assume in her thirties.”

 _Were there others?_ **_Are_ ** _there others?_ This she did not ask. She didn’t need to.

Likewise, he did not ask why she was in a bar. The question must be circling his head, but there was a time and place for it. They went up into Dale’s room, where the lock worked. Despite that, they still put a chair against the window, just to be certain. Laura used a pad this time. She fell deeper into the bed until Dale’s arms cloaked her and something very old and very primal made them pull each other, snug and secure, encased from the dark around them. Against her ear, she heard Dale speak, his words far off and arcane. “I’ve known BOB for many years, before you were born and I was brought here. He hurt my mother and now I’ve brought him here to hurt you.” She saw there truly were tears streaming down his cheek this time. Not since Annie left did she see those. “When you graduate, I’ll get a job in Seattle. You can stay with me while you go to college.”

She choked through her own sobbing, “Okay.”

“I mean it, Laura.”

“Okay.”

“I mean it. I mean it, I mean it, I mean it.”

Laura said “okay” again but it got caught in her throat.

“I’ll forget about the sheriffs’ department, I’ll forget about Annie.”

Laura very nearly said “no.” 

“Maybe I can try going back to school too. We can be classmates.”

She giggled.

“And it’ll be a nice sized apartment. One that has a pet policy, for Jupiter. You’ll have a car, so you can visit Donna. And Bobby can come over if you want. I can take you to see Philadelphia and the Liberty Bell. It looks so much better in person than the history books…”

Deeper and deeper, the blankets and his arms smothered her.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The next morning...

In the dark hours of the next morning, Laura was wrestled awake by her mother frenziedly rushing her out of the bedroom. Behind her she heard both parents argue and panic. Her nightdress was warm and wet all the way down to her feet. She rubbed her fingers together to detect in the dimly lit hall what it was, fearing she had an accident at her age, and with her older brother in the same bed no less. Except the fluid on her gown was too dark, heavy, and viscous, and smelled too much like metal. If not for the hysteria behind her, her conclusion would be her pad leaked. She stood petrified while her mother ran to the phone. They begged for a response from Dale. Minutes passed and a team of EMTs arrived to cart him away to the ER, Sarah and Leland hopping in, and leave Laura by herself in that house. The sun peeked over the horizon and brought light in for Laura to gaze at her bloodied palms, and wipe it on her dress in a daze. The rest of the bed was in a ruin. 

Mom and Dad got in, the EMTs got in, they all got out. So the door wasn’t locked. She took a bobby pin and stuck it in the hole. Something was jammed in there too.


End file.
